Candle In The Wind
by xX-Misty
Summary: With a nation in mourning, Alex can't believe she's forgotten an event as significant as the death of Princess Diana. As she tries to deal with the reality that she's letting go of memories associated with her old life the rest of CID deal with the news in different ways and a discovery enrages Keats to breaking point where his evil fury has devastating consequences for Kim.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

With a click, the theme tune to _Merry Christmas Mr Lawrence_ awoke the sleeping Alex as she dozed peacefully, nuzzled somewhere between Gene's arm and his chest. She let the music filter through to her dream for a few moments before she could not deny any longer that it was coming from her alarm clock rather than from the marching band she'd been dreaming about who appeared to have suddenly _'mellowed out'_ with their music of preference.

One eye opened. There she was in the freshly painted room; the new purple walls surrounding them. The dustsheets were still draped across the bed hiding the duvet and they'd slept in a stinky room all night but their exhaustion had sent them quickly to sleep and they hadn't even noticed the fumes.

She groaned as she tried to free herself from the large, hairy arm that pinned her down.

"No Gene, got to get up," she mumbled as she tried desperately to move it again. This time it budged a couple of inches, enough for her to come up for air and approach the alarm clock beside her. She frowned as soon as she saw the time. "Gene," she prodded him and he groaned lightly. _"Gene!"_

"_What?"_ he muttered.

"It's half past six," Alex said crossly.

"_Hello half past six, nice to meet you_," Gene mumbled and pulled the duvet and dust sheets up a little higher.

"We forgot to change the alarm," Alex continued, "its Sunday, we were supposed to lie in today."

"Then tell half past six to bugger off and come back here," Gene told her, his eyes still tightly closed.

Alex sighed and switched off the alarm clock but a heartbeat before she slipped back into bed she froze and frowned.

"That's odd," she said.

"We painted 'em yesterday, walls are s'posed to be that colour," Gene mumbled into his pillow.

"No, I meant the music," Alex frowned, "that's an odd thing for them to play on this station." She was right. Where were the _current 90s hits and vibrant pop tunes? _She switched the radio back on and slipped beneath the covers to listen to the end of the song. She closed her eyes contentedly and gave a gentle sigh,

"I love this film," she said

"It's a song," Gene muttered, still half asleep.

Alex rolled her eyes and turned to him, wrapping an arm around his torso.

"No, the film this comes from," she said, "_Merry Christmas Mr Lawrence."_

"I hate that film," Gene told her, "It's got David Bowie in it."

Alex frowned.

"So?"

"Well whenever one of you lot turns up from two thousand and bollocks you make a habit of singing his greatest bloody _hits!"_ Gene told her, "Got bad associations now."

"Oh thanks a _lot!"_ Alex slapped him cheekily on the chest and nuzzled back against him to listen to the music but just a moment later the track cut out to silence which brought Alex's eyes wide open once again. "What happened?" she said quickly as she turned to look at the radio, half expecting a power cut, but the numbers were still lit up on the display and a moment later a serious and sombre voice began to speak.

"_This is independent Radio News. The death of Diana, Princess of Wales has been confirmed in Paris."_

All at once a shiver the size of an earthquake travelled down Alex's spine. She swallowed softly as she felt herself shake just a little. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears as she stared at the date on the calendar beside her bed in quiet disbelief

"_My god,"_ she whispered, "how could I have forgotten?" Her tongue ran around her lips as she moved out of Gene's arms to turn to him, "Gene I'm sorry, this… I didn't remember…"

Gene seemed frozen on the spot, his eyes focused on nothing in particular as he listened carefully to the rest of the announcement.

"_Buckingham Palace confirmed earlier this morning that the Princess had died following a car crash in Paris."_

"Gene," Alex whispered again. He finally looked at her, his face clearly shocked by the news. "I didn't remember this... how could I _forget?"_

Strangely still and sombre, Gene couldn't even reply. He wasn't sure why the news had bowled him over in the way that it had but he couldn't seem to stop listening to the shocking words over the airwaves. As the bulletin ended and another piece of music began Alex felt someone gripping her hand. She looked at Gene who seemed extremely shocked.

"I, uh," he cleared his throat, "sometimes I forget that people die."

Alex knew what he meant. The rest of the world wasn't simply made up of drones, of nobodies that had no place in their lives. The people were as real as their counterparts in the world from which Alex and the others had come. She squeezed his hand back and felt another shudder travel down her spine that left every hair on her body tingling. The day of Diana's passing had been strange enough the first time around. Now she had to live it for a second time.

"Gene?" she said quietly, "are you OK?"

Gene nodded but his expression contorted with a look of confusion and shock that Alex wasn't used to seeing. He hauled his bulk up in the bed and rubbed the remainder of sleep from his eyes. Their lie-in was over. He was wide awake.

"What we need," he began stiffly, "is a sodding big barrel of coffee." He twisted around and slipped out of bed, rummaging in their discarded clothes for his underpants. It didn't seem respectful to show his hairy backside off on the day of the death of a princess. "I'm switching to eight sugars," he decided and slowly slumped from the bedroom with a sympathetic glance from Alex trailing behind him.

Alex couldn't blame Gene for being so shocked. Whether you liked her or not, whether you were a royalist or not, there was no escaping the fact that Diana had been a most prominent figure and the news had come so undoubtedly out of the blue. Alex closed her eyes as she remembered the day the first time around; watching the news, reading the special edition of the Sunday papers, trying to understand what was happening to the country. It was like no other day on record. Yet now she was living it for a second time.

"It's going to be a very strange day," she murmured to herself with a deep sigh, _"again."_

_**~xXx~**_

_**A/N: So where were you when you heard the news? Actually, I know a lot of you are too young to remember but the day Princess Diana died is one of the most vivid memories I have, waking up to strange music on the radio, interrupted by the last news I had been expecting.**_

_**This fic follows immediately on from The Drugs Don't Work and it's going to be a fairly short one. The rating will rise to M in later chapters. Also, please, please don't be offended by any poor taste jokes that Gene makes, the views expressed by the characters do not necessarily represent the views of the writer! :D**_

_**Thank you so much for following this series of stories, I hope you enjoy this fic – it'll be a little different to usual. Clearly by now you know I don't own A2A, nor do I own any members of the royal family incidentally. At least I hope not. If I find Prince Charles in my bathtub I'm going to be majorly pissed.**_


	2. Chapter 1: Breaking News

**Chapter 1**

Alex stood at the bedroom window watching out over all the nearby houses, their curtains drawn and households still sleeping.

"_All those people,"_ she whispered under her _breath "none of them know yet. They still have to find out." _

She turned around and walked slowly back to the bed where she crawled back inside, pulling the covers around her as she shivered. It wasn't really cold, perhaps just a little chillier than usual where the warmth of the summer had all but passed. But it was the shock that had made her feel so cold; the shock of living through the death all over again as well as the shock that she had forgotten it.

"Here. Get your lips around this," Gene reappeared with two mugs and placed one into her waiting hands.

"Thanks," she said quietly.

He climbed into bed beside her and reached around to switch off the radio as it began playing yet another instrumental masterpiece. Alex was glad of that. If she had to hear the blasted Independent Radio News announcement one more time she was going to scream. Instead Gene grabbed the remote control and switched on the TV. The sight of rolling news across BBC 1 and 2 was strange and eerie.

"So it's really true then?" He asked.

Alex nodded slowly.

"Yup," she whispered. She blew softly at her coffee before taking a small sip and closing her eyes. Something was worrying her deeply and she had to express it. "Gene? Why didn't I remember?"

Gene turned to her, a little confused.

"Bols, look at the year we've had," he said grimly, "wouldn't expect you to give me a daily rundown of current affairs."

"But this is different," Alex shifted her legs to edge closer to Gene as her eyes stayed fixed on the black-tie presenter on the screen, "you'll never see anything else like this in your lifetime."

"Been here a long time," Gene said and took a slurp of his coffee. He looked at Alex quite seriously, "things are going to slip yer mind. Besides, what would you have done if you'd remembered? Sat me down to give me advanced warning and sang me three verses of the national anthem?"

"No… I don't know," Alex gave a half-hearted shrug. She supposed it was fair enough, she wouldn't have known how to tell him.

"Besides, you're not the only one from the far and distant future, Gene continued, "no one _else_ thought to give me a royal snuff warning either."

"Gene!"

"Well they didn't!" Gene took a gulp of his coffee and wiped his mouth on the dust sheet, "Batman could have fired off a warning. I would have expected _Shoebury_ to give me a heads up at least."

"Simon spent more than a quarter of the year in a _coma!"_ Alex reminded him, "he probably doesn't even know what day of the _week_ it is, let alone what day of the year!"

"Yeah, well," Gene reached across Alex to pick up the cordless phone, extending the aerial about half a mile, "we'll see won't we?"

"We will?" Alex frowned, "Oh _no_, Gene, please tell me you're not going to –"

"Shh, I'm dialling."

"Gene, you _can't!"_ Alex protested, "it's not even seven in the morning yet! Please tell me you're not calling Simon."

"The man needs to hear the news," Gene told her.

"Not from you!" cried Alex, "not at…" she checked the clock, "six fity-five on a Sunday morning!"

"He's been asleep for three and a half months, one early morning won't kill him."

"You're a cruel man, Gene Hunt" Alex told him, but as she fell silent and waited for Gene to begin berating Simon for avoiding the topic she couldn't stop her mind from going back to one fact; the thing that was frustrating her and worrying her. How the _hell_ could she have forgotten something so important? And if she'd forgotten the biggest news event of the 1990s then what else had disappeared from her memory?

~xXx~

_No._

The phone wasn't ringing. It _couldn't_ be ringing because Simon was perfectly happy sleeping. Robin's couch was surprisingly comfortable and he wasn't going to move. Not for anyone.

The ringing, however, seemed to disagree.

Simon felt his slumber being slowly dragged away from beneath him until he had to admit that he was wide awake and his dreams were slipping far behind him. He groaned and opened one eye. His mobile phone was sitting on the coffee table along with a glass of water and a half-eaten donut. With a groan he reached out and fumbled around for the phone. It was somewhat bigger than his old beloved iPhone but at least technology had reached the stage where a phone would fit in his pocket without needing scaffolding to keep it there. He blearily pressed the button to take the call and held it to his ear.

"Hello?"

"_Shoebury, you ignorant anti-Royalist arsehole!"_

Simon didn't even question the greeting.

"Morning, Gene," he mumbled, "why are you calling me at…." He glanced around and tried to see the time but as always the clock told him the same lie it had been telling him for almost 2 years. "_Fuck_… at some ridiculous hour, I'll bet."

"_Almost seven, Simon."_

"Gene, what the fu…" Simon propped himself up a little, frowning deeply, "it's _Sunday!"_

"_Yer on a month's sick leave, not like it's yer day off."_

"No, but it is _Robin's!"_ Simon protested, "You could have woken him up!"

"_That's why I called yer bloody mobile one,"_ Gene told him and Simon sighed. He sat up straight, if a little stiffly, and rubbed his eyes.

"Alright," he mumbled, "I'm awake. What do you want?"

"_The reason why you didn't tell me that fairy-tale_," said Gene."

"What fairy-tale?"

"_The Princess and the Paparazzi."_

"The what?" Simon frowned but quite suddenly the pieces fell into place and a deep sinking feeling hit him inside. "Oh _no_… Gene, what day is it?"

"_A good day to be a florist,"_ Gene told him and Simon swallowed. A shudder travelled through him as he scrambled for the remote control and switched on the TV. Channel 4 slowly came into focus; a still image of a field of flowers broadcast with a caption of Diana's passing over the top. _"Shit no,"_ he whispered, "not this."

"_You could have warned me this was a day to 'Di' for..."_

"_Gene!"_ Simon flinched at the most tasteless joke in history, "look, I've got to go."

"_You're too soft Shoebury!"_

"Not because of your _joke,"_ Simon said somewhat crossly, _"which_, by the way, you're going to be toasting in the fires of hell for…." He shook his head, "I just have to go, OK?"

"_No! Not OK!"_ Gene began but before he could say anything more Simon had cut the call and laid down his phone, breathing heavily. A feeling of dread settled over his shoulders as he glanced across at the door to Robin's bedroom. "Oh _shit,"_ he breathed, "now I've got to tell _him."_

Simon hung his head as he thought back to a day many years earlier, back before he and Robin had a romantic history, when they were just friends – _good_ friends – who would run into one another in a local nightclub. Robin was only 17 and his fake ID served him well while Simon was at university and just starting to really live his life. Over any months they'd gotten to know one another but Simon had his first real look into Robin's tragic past the week after the death of Diana.

Robin's absence from the club had been notable all through that week. By the Friday Simon was starting to worry. They'd swapped numbers once but never called each other until that night when Simon became worried. Thinking Robin might have been unwell, he called him.

Robin was fit and well but his head was a mess. The sound of tears on the line had made Simon worry all the more and he trawled through the telephone directory to find his address. It was the first and only time that Simon went to Robin's foster parents' house as a teenager. Until then he didn't even know that Robin had foster parents. When a distressed Robin answered the door he fell into Simon's arms and cried until he had no more tears left to give.

Simon had initially been confused by Robin's insistence that he was upset by Princess Diana's death but it wasn't Diana he was mourning. For almost 2 years he'd disassociated himself from the death of his mother. It was the only way of coping. The national mourning had helped him to finally confront and release his own grief. Simon had a feeling that it was the same for a lot of people. Diana's death made tears and grief acceptable suddenly.

That night, Robin told Simon the story of his mother's murder for the first and only time. He shared a little about his abusive father, the trigger song that set him off and how he'd rebuilt his life. Simon had always known that Robin only gave him the barest details but he couldn't have expected any more than that.

Simon knew that, in the long run, the chain reaction caused by Diana's death had been a positive thing for Robin's progress but in the short term it had shattered him, and now Simon had the job of breaking the news to him that it was happening all over again.

"Shit."

He had only been out of hospital for a couple of days and had been grateful for Robin taking him in. The two of them had been getting on better than they had since Robin's death and they were both grateful for that. While Simon still harboured some hurt from the way their relationship had ended and Robin still had some reservations about Simon's temptation to push for another try at their relationship the bond they had was becoming a solid friendship. Both were glad they had found that much stil remained between them.

Simon pulled himself off of the couch and took a few slow, pained steps towards the kitchen. His body was stiff and frail where his muscles had weakened over time. He knew that he would regain his strength in time but for now everything was frustrating him. He switched in the kettle and sat down while it boiled, thinking sadly about Robin's reaction the first time around. _Shit_, how was he going to take it this time? Was he going to be fine or was he going to flip out? It wasn't as though Robin was in the best frame of mind as it was.

The kettle finished boiling and Simon set about making two strong coffees. He thought about topping them up with the kind of substance that Gene would approve of but he'd only been there three days and hadn't discovered where Robin kept the alcohol yet. He gave a very deep sigh and knew that he couldn't put it off forever. The sooner he got it over with, the better.

He picked up the coffees and very slowly walked from the kitchen, through the lounge and finally to Robin's bedroom. He already felt tired and weak. _Fuck_, that was pathetic. Making two coffees had exhausted him like a day's work. He took a deep breath and padded quietly through the darkened room where he placed the two mugs on Robin's bedside cabinet and softly sat on the edge of his bed. He stared at Robin's face, still peaceful, deeply asleep. This wasn't news that Robin was going to want to hear, but he had to get it over with. Softy he laid a hand on Robin's arm and gave him a gentle shake.

"Robin? Hey Rob."

"Hmpf, huh? What?" Robin mumbled, his eyes barely opening.

"Robin," Simon said sombrely, "time to wake up."

Robin turned over and pulled the duvet over his head

"No it's not, it's Sunday," he uttered.

Simon drew in his breath and peeled the covers from Robin's hand.

Yeah," he said quietly, "it is. It's… it's Sunday… the thirty first of august," he swallowed, "two thousand and seven."

For a moment nothing happened, then Robin very slowly turned over in bed, his eyes opening wider with realisation. His face seemed to turn three shades paler on the spot.

"Oh no," he whispered, "Shit it's not… it's-"

Simon nodded slowly.

"It's come around," he said quietly.

Robin closed his eyes as he started to feel a sense of nausea in his guts. He knew now. And he wished for all the world that he could go back to forgetting.


	3. Chapter 2: Emotions Suspended

**Chapter 2**

"…_And if you're just waking up this morning, this is the news you're waking up to,"_ the woman in the black suit, sitting in the pink sofa began, _"Princess Diana is dead."_

"Such a subtle way of saying it," Robin said softly as he looked down at the mug in his hands, then at Simon. "Thanks for this," he said gratefully, warming his hands around it, his knees pulled up under his chin and still covered in blankets. Simon climbed into bed beside him, a little hesitantly. He wasn't sure if he was overstepping whatever line there was between them but Robin didn't seem to mind.

"I don't _remember_ them putting it quite so bluntly," he said, trying to think back to the day in question, "I thought it was always '_has died'_ or 'was _killed'_. '_Is Dead'_ just sounds…" he shook his head and sighed, "…sounds like how the announcement would go if Gene became a newsreader. I've heard better ways of putting it," he said. He stretched awkwardly across Robin to pick up his mug, careful not to spill hot coffee everywhere, then pulled the duvet around him. It felt strange, being in bed with Robin again, even though this time there were purely innocent reasons behind it. He looked at Robin's sombre face as he carried on watching the screen. "Rob? You OK?" he asked quietly and Robin turned to him with a vague smile, sad but stoic.

"Yeah," he said quietly, "I am. Better than I was the first time, anyway."

Simon nodded slowly.

"I can see that," he said quietly. He thought back to the day that Robin had to relive the death of his mother at the hands of his father and the way that Robin had carried his younger self from the house. "You're much stronger now."

Robin sipped his coffee.

"Am I bollocks."

"You _are_, you know you are," Simon told him. He frowned slightly. "_'Am I Bollocks'?_ You've been hanging around Gene for too long."

"He spent two months kipping on my couch," Robin said apologetically, "what do you expect?" he sighed sadly as he focused on the screen again. GMTV was continuing to deliver the saddest of news. "Shit, I always thought that pink sofa was inappropriate," he said quietly.

"You what?"

"The first time around," Robin said quietly, "it's funny... with everything that happened and the way I just… _crashed_…" he swallowed, trying not to think about that part, "the thing that sticks out in my memory is that fucking pink sofa." He took a swig of coffee, the hot liquid stinging his tongue a little, "I remember thinking… how could they stand to sit there with something that resembles Mister Blobby under their arses? A princess had just died."

Simon bit his lip as he looked at Robin's strained expression. Perhaps he wasn't going to cope as well with the return of the day as he'd first suspected.

"I was going to put a little something _extra_ in these," he held his mug up a little, "but I wasn't sure where you kept it."

Robin turned to him, his smile grateful. The way things had worked out was strangely fitting. Of everyone in his life, the one person Robin wanted to have with him that day was the one person who knew how the death of the princess had affected him the first time around.

"It's the cupboard next to the washing machine," he said with a slight smile, "I used to keep it in the lounge but, well," he sighed, "I had Gene sleeping on my sofa for two months. You learn to hide the alcohol fairly quickly when that happens."

Simon nodded.

"That's a familiar scenario," he said, recalling the times that Gene had ended up staying with him. He watched the woman on the screen as she went over to a roving reporter with more news. "You are right about the pink sofa though."

"Couldn't they have thrown a black rug over it or something?" Robin muttered.

"Gene and Alex are decorating," Simon piped up, "they could have lent them a dust sheet."

This at least prompted a little smile from Robin whose eyes turned down to the cup in his hands.

"Maybe we should switch to BBC one instead," he suggested, "no pink sofas on there."

The two men fell silent as they stared at the screen and let the news wash over them as though hearing it all for the first time. Simon couldn't help but worry about Robin. So far he seemed to be holding up but grief, Simon knew, was a strange thing. It could strike when it was least expected. He was going to have to keep a careful eye on him that day For what it was worth, he felt more relieved than ever that their friendship was becoming stronger.

~xXx~

Kim was sleeping. That actually was a rare event these days. The darkness of Fenchurch West had taken from her the pleasure of a good night's sleep. She didn't actually seem to _need_ to sleep any more and even though she _could_ it wasn't refreshing and she lacked dreams. It was just… _dark_. Black. Blank. She might as well have just stayed awake. So, for the most part, that's what she did.

For some unknown reason the night before she had decided to sleep. Weeks of dark emotions and cold heartedness left her empty and lacking purpose. She just wanted to turn off the lights on her mind and shut the world out for a while.

She was already awake by the time the alarm went off and voices began yapping away on the radio. She'd been staring at the ceiling for the best part of half an hour, her soul as dead as could be. She couldn't even be bothered counting the tiles on the ceiling. She'd count up to five and then lose interest. Every now and then she could hear a voice in her mind but it was faint and easy to push to one side. The tiny room was as empty as her heart. The closed curtains threw a dusk atmosphere over the morning. She hated Sundays. They were supposed to be her day off but where was the point in that? To do what? One of her many hobbies, which included staring at the walls, staring at the ceiling or hating Keats?

Her flat and undernourished stomach growled loudly but aside from sliding one hand up her torso to rest against it she ignored it completely. It was easier to ignore her body's signals to eat than to force down food that held no appeal. Everything lacked flavour. Everything lacked taste.

_That's because you're used to Robin's cooking._

Woah, where did _that_ come from? That time the voice in her mind was a little more insistent than usual and she propped herself up on her elbow in shock. She caught her breath, trying to make out why the thought had passed through her mind but she refused to acknowledge the words. She didn't think about Robin. Not any more.

Another painful howl rose from her stomach and the emptiness finally began to get to her. She hadn't eaten at all the day before. Maybe she should force _something_, she thought crossly to herself. She didn't even want to do that. There was a tiny part of her mind that realised her refusal to eat was a little more than a lack of taste or enjoyment. It was also another way to flex her sense of control in a world that still felt dark and daunting, as integrated as she had become.

One more angry rumble and she forced herself out of bed resentfully, cheeks flushing with embarrassment even though she was alone. She wanted to just lie there, staring at the ceiling, all day if she had to. But even for her the hunger was getting too much to deal with. Her feet fell flatly as she marched to the alarm clock, set far enough from her bed that she would have to move to switch it off. Her finger reached for the button until one line of speech stopped her.

"…_And Diana was a warm and caring person."_

Kim froze immediately as one word from that sentence struck her. _Was_. She stood there, motionless for several moments as she tried to work out what the date was. Shit, it _couldn't_ be… not already…

"_The public's reaction to the tragic news has been overwhelming,"_ the voice continued as Kim's hands rose to her mouth and she drew in her breath.

"Shit, it_ is," _she whispered before she could stop herself.

"_And just to recap,"_ the radio continued oblivious to her shock _"Diana, princess of wales, has died in a car accident which killed also her boyfriend Dodi Fayed."_

Kim closed her eyes as the same shiver ran down her spine that she'd felt all those years ago as she'd heard the news the first time around. There was a strange feeling inside of her, as though he bottom dropped out of her guts and her head spun for a moment but she soon fought back against it and made it stop. The darkness chased it away quickly. She'd been in serious danger of _feeling_ and that was not good.

She flicked off the radio and stomped down the staircase to her kitchen, trying to ignore the memories of the first time around and the emotions that Diana's death stirred up through the country. It was threatening to stir up emotions for Kim and that was _not_ going to happen, thank you very much. Reaching the kitchen, she flicked on the kettle and switched on the radio, forgetting that she was about to receive a reminder of the news she'd just discovered.

"…_In case you've just tuned in and you're wondering what's going on, this is the BBC News team with an extended service on radio two, three, four, Five Live and all local BBC radio stations following the tragic news of the death of princess Diana…"_

"ARGH!" Kim gave an angry cry as she slapped at the off switch and stopped the news from playing again. She breathed heavily as the kettle started to boil and her blood did the same. For a split second she recalled the moment she'd discovered about Diana's death as a teenager, her parents calling her at an ungodly hour and insisting that she left her student houseshare for the day to join them for a _nice respectful lunch._ She almost snorted at the time, only too well aware that just the day before those very same elders were berating the princess for her behaviour, 'gallivanting' with her boyfriend and bringing shame on the royal family.

Shit, now she was thinking about family. She had been estranged from them for years but times of grief made a person think back.

"Urgh,_ no," _Kim angrily told herself, "No fucking grief."

She set her jaw firmly and blocked out every threat of emotion. She needed to stop this. She had to take action. No feelings. No emotions, no memories.

She thought back to her life before her leap. In the aftermath of losing both Robin and their unborn baby she's been constantly outrunning her emotions, terrified to let herself feel anything, even for a moment. And the way to outrun them was to spend her life up to her neck in work. Well, that or scotch and alcohol was no longer an option.

Almost as though autopilot kicked in, she turned and marched up the stairs to the bathroom where she quickly washed and dressed before leaving her cold and lonely home to head to Fenchurch West. With Keats still away in Paris and the station in its quiet Sunday state she could throw herself into cases and block out the rest.

While the nation mourned the most famous woman in the world Kim worked hard to shut out all trace of emotion, unaware how many people were in mourning for the Kim they used to know. The darkness had embraced her, and she'd gladly reciprocated. What was one more dark, cold day to the shell that was once Kim Stringer?

_**~xXx~**_

_**A/N: I feel the need to say something right now because I passed a landmark yesterday. My FFnet account total word count now clocks in at over 2 million words. That… is pretty damn bizarre to contemplate. I started the first chapter of Out of the Window as a one-shot two and a half years ago and now 2 million words on it's become a monster. And I love it.**_

_**I'm feeling pretty damn grateful that A2A pulled me out of a decade of writer's block and set me on this path. Some awesome things have happened as a result of writing my fics. Some not so awesome things have happened too… like never being able to eat fish or biscuits again :P Plus I have NO idea how to cook the turkey this year without shoving an apple up its arse!**_

_**To everyone who has read my fics, it means the world to me that you're enjoying them enough to keep reading. To all of you that I talk to regularly who I met through writing, I am so happy to have your friendship, and those of you I don't get to speak to as often as I'd like please don't think that you are any the less important, I am so glad for all the friends I have made on here.**_

_**Thank you for talking a walk in my world. Here's to the next 2 million words x**_


	4. Chapter 3: Special Edition

**Chapter 3**

As Jake opened one eye with a groan he tried to remember exactly what had happened the night before. All he really remembered was something about Marci saying they needed to have a proper drink for Eddie and the next thing he knew the two of them, plus Shaz, were being escorted away from L!ve TVs studios for attempting to arrest News Bunny for having 'above-average length ears'. He squinted a little, surprised that his head wasn't throbbing.

"Hmmmmpf," he mumbled experimentally as he rolled onto his back and opened his eyes properly The sunlight took a moment to adjust to but eventually he could see well enough to make an effort to get up. His head wasn't throbbing but he felt exhausted. There had been… _how_ much dancing? Ugh his feet hurt. Actually, the muscles in the backs of his calves ached too. He pulled himself upright and rubbed his eyes. _What a night_. The only downside had been that Robin wasn't there, although Jake supposed that if he had been then he wouldn't have been as relaxed as he was without him. He still felt somewhat anxious and shy around Robin. He was starting to relax more every time they were together but he was hopelessly shy when he genuinely liked somebody and that wasn't something that happened very often.

He experimentally slipped his legs out of the bed. Still no hangover. Well, _that_ was good. Maybe he'd gotten away with it. He could hear snoring from the lounge as Marci tried to sleep off her own overindulgence. By the time they'd drunk everything alcoholic within a five mile area Marci was in no state to go home by herself so she had taken up residence on the sofa. Wasn't the first time, wouldn't be the last. Inseparable, they were. Friends for life. Permanent reservation on one another's couches

"Coffee," Jake mumbled as he got to his feet and took a step towards the doorway. Despite his head remaining fairly sturdy he felt his guts rolling and a wave of slight nausea washed over him. "_Ugh_," he groaned, "that'll be the fucking alcopops." Coffee, and maybe something to eat. That was what they needed. He walked down the hallway, poking his head in on Marci along the way. Her head poked out from beneath a warm tartan blanket, her abundant hair covering most of her face. "Marci," he said quietly as he gently ruffled her mane, but she didn't stir. "Marci, do you want a coffee?"

"_Mpfff,"_ was the vague noise that returned from her and Jake sighed.

"I'll take that as a yes," he said and walked through to the kitchen. He flicked on the kettle and grabbed a couple of mugs, heaping a tea spoon of coffee granules in each and adding sugar for Marci, but he found a stumbling block as he opened the fridge and stared at the lack of contents within. He flinched and sighed. "Damn. No milk." He turned around and yelled over his shoulder, "_No milk, Marci."_ He waited but there was no response. Well, what had he expected? With a groan he padded back through the hallway and stuck his head through into the lounge. "Marci?"

"Hmm?"

"No milk."

Marci moaned little and adjusted the cushion beneath her head.

"Have it black," she mumbled, desperately trying to get back to sleep.

"I hate black coffee," Jake mumbled. He traipsed back to the kitchen just as the kettle clicked off and he held it above the mugs ready to pour but he gave a sigh as he realised he just couldn't do it. He wanted milk in his. Glancing at the clock he wondered if the newsagent on the corner was open already. Most probably. He quickly pulled on some jeans and his jacket and poked his head back in on Marci.

"I'm going to the paper shop," he said.

"Hmm?"

"To get some milk." he paused. "Do you want anything?"

"Mmm… yes," mumbled Marci, "peace and quiet. G'night."

Jake rolled his eyes and sighed as he grabbed his keys and wallet and slipped on his shoes.

"If you're not up by the time I'm back I'll be getting you a very loud alarm call," he threatened and left in search of milk.

~xXx~

Gene had never watched GMTV in his life.

But then, he'd never seen the aftermath of the death of a princess either.

A sad, blonde woman sat on the ironically brought coloured sofa.

"_Well, if you're just waking up,"_ she began, "_this is the news you're waking up to: Diana, Princess of wales, has been killed in a car crash in France."_

The screen showed footage of the crash site. The car was an absolute wreck. It resembled a crushed coke can more than a vehicle. Alex felt a little nauseous as she watched, her mind touching upon the car accidents that her two parts had suffered when her soul had split in half. It made her shudder. She felt Gene's arm slip around her shoulder and she turned to him with a grateful smile, then pulled the duvet up around them a little higher.

"_Hundreds of people flocked to Kensington palace and Buckingham Palace after hearing the news,"_ the woman on the screen continued, _"some wishing to lay flowers, others to light candles. Some are just wandering sadly, not even sure why they're here. Taxi drivers who heard the news early this morning left their shift and headed to Buckingham Palace. People across the country and indeed the world are united in grief today. At the end of her life she was no longer an official part of the royal family yet to many she _was_ the royal family."_

Alex nodded to herself. That really summed it up.

"I can't believe I had forgotten," she said quietly.

Gene took a long slurp from his coffee mug, the eighth sugar really hitting the spot and shook his head.

"Bolly, listen," he said, "you're not a bloody Filofax. You can't keep track of every date that's going to make me head spin."

"But I should have remembered this."

"Not the kind of thing you really want to remember," Gene pointed out, "birthdays, anniversaries and the deaths of members of the bloody royal family!"

"It's more than that," Alex said quietly, feeling a little strange inside, "it's not like I'd just forgotten that it was today," she held her mug to her lips but didn't drink it. "It's like I'd forgotten that it happened at all."

Gene didn't seem concerned but then Alex wasn't sure he completely understood. It wasn't as though it had slipped her mind, it was as though she just didn't know that it happened at all. That worried her terribly. She closed her eyes for a moment. What else couldn't she remember? Could she remember what happened in a week's time? A year? The more she thought about it the worse the boulder sitting inside her began to feel. There were news events that she could remember but couldn't place a year, let alone a day. Then there were dates that she knew were significant but couldn't for the life of her remember why. She bit anxiously on her tongue. What if she was forgetting? She was wholly a part of Gene's world by now. She had no physical presence left in two thousand and bollocks. What if she was forgetting the same way that Gene forgot he was dead?

She tried to push the thoughts from her mind and focused on the TV as the blonde woman addressed the public again.

_"And here are the headlines on special 6am editions this morning,"_ she said, holding up a newspaper, _"just in case you are thinking this is all a bad joke, it isn't. The headlines say it all."_ The camera focused on the front page of The Express which simply said in bold, black type; _DIANA IS DEAD._

"They keep saying the same bloody things over and over but it still feels bloody unbelievable," Gene commented without thinking.

Alex glanced at him.

"What's unbelievable is you watching GMTV," she said, knowing Gene's thoughts on pink, girly sofas.

They fell silent again as they watched the footage unfolding but as she stared at the screen Alex's thoughts returned to her memory gaps. She couldn't stop thinking about them, until one thought came to her that forced a lump into her throat and she could hardly hold in the tears that began to well. She swallowed hard and ironically tried to forget what she had forgotten but she couldn't. With a heavy heart she tried to picture Molly in her mind but there were parts that were missing, like a jigsaw puzzle that remained incomplete.

"_I can't remember what colour her eyes were,"_ she whispered.

That was the single darkest moment of her death to date.

~xXx~

The street was eerily silent as Jake made his way to the corner shop. It felt strange out. Even for a Sunday it was empty and quiet and even those who were roaming the streets seemed oddly subdued. People were waking with their heads bowed and their eyes fixed on the ground. Jake frowned a little but didn't think about it too much. He couldn't think beyond getting some caffeine into his system and waking up a little.

He passed a tearful woman in the doorway of the shop which left him frowning with confusion. He wondered what had caused her to cry at a newsagents? Were they out of TV guides or something? Shaking his head a little he entered the shop and crossed to the tiny fridge with a selection of drinks within it, mostly sweet and fizzy. He located the milk and grabbed a bottle then headed to the counter, fishing in his pocket for some change as he went. He scanned the counter while he waited, looking for some kind of snack that he could pick up along the way but the only things beside the till were a stack of papers bearing the grimmest headline; _DIANA IS DEAD_

"Who's dead?" Jake frowned as the shop assistant took the milk and rang it up on the till.

"Diana," frowned the gentleman.

"Diana who?" frowned Jake.

"Princess Di."

"What princess died?

"Princess Di died."

"Who die-died?"

"_Diana!_ Princess Diana! The bloody princess of Wales."

Jake stared at him, mouth open wide. He thought he was hallucinating. Maybe he still had too much alcohol in his system. Or maybe he was asleep and having a bad dream. He shook his head, disbelieving the man, and picked up a paper. As he skimmed through he felt his stomach churning harder with every page he turned. He swallowed hard and shoved a few extra coins across the counter.

"Thanks," he said quietly, grabbing the milk and tucking the paper under his arm. He found his pace increasing and his fatigue fading as he made his way home. He thought about poor Marci sprawled out on sofa. Unlikely as it seemed she was quite the royalist and she wasn't going to take this well.

The walk home passed in a flash as he thought about the pages he'd flipped through, where pictures of a wrecked car and a tunnel in Paris stared back alongside the sad words. By the time he got back he expected to find Marci up and around but she was still lying down and dozing. He knelt by her side and shook her gently.

"Marci," he said softly, "Hey, Marci. Come on. Wake up."

"No thank you," Marci mumbled.

"Marci, this is serious," Jake insisted and she finally opened one eye.

"They were out of milk?" she guessed.

Jake closed his eyes for a second. He wasn't sure what to say.

"Maybe you should just see for yourself," he said, pushing the paper towards Marci but she flapped it away.

"I haven't got my contacts in," she said apologetically.

"Believe me, Marci, the size of this headline you won't need them."

Finally Marci took the paper and stared at the three words taking up the full front page. Her heart sank and a shudder passed down her spine. All traces of hangover were forgotten in a flash.


	5. Chapter 4: Mourning Morning

**Chapter 4**

Alex and Gene knew that they should get up but they couldn't tear their eyes from the screen. Gene had never seen anything like it while Alex found so much was missing from her memory that it felt like going through it for the first time. Aside from the scenes of sadness playing out on the TV Alex's mind focused repeatedly on the worrying fact that there were other things she could not remember. The image of Princess Diana was on the screen again accompanied by sad music and a message; _"PRINCESS DIANA HAS DIED." _They'd been doinfg it every few minutes. The image of Diana changed to shots of Buckingham Palace where a river of flowers was developing outside

"_I don't know why I'm here,"_ a tearful woman told the reporter who'd shoved a microphone in front of her, _"I'm not a royalist. I just felt… I felt like I had to do something…"_

Alex sighed. She finally took the remote control and switched from GMTV to BBC1.

"I was watching that!" Gene cried.

"The BBC has better coverage," Alex told him.

"Smarmy git with a black tie and a stick up his arse?"

"GMTV has a pink, girly sofa."

Gene froze. She had a point.

"Good old Beeb it is then," he said.

Alex stared at her hands, turning the remote control over and over within them.

"Gene," she said quietly.

"No we can't go to Buckingham palace," Gene said quickly.

"I didn't _want_ to!" Alex frowned.

"And we're not buying bloody flowers and candles."

"I wasn't going to say any such thing," Alex said crossly which made Gene turn around.

"Just winding you up, Bols," He said with a frown, "what's bitten your backside?"

Alex looked at him, her eyes glazed.

"I think something's happening to me," she whispered.

Gene was about to make a rude remark but stopped when he saw her dark expression. He wasn't sure what she meant by 'something'

"Mind elaborating on that?" he asked.

"When you were in Manchester," Alex began quietly, "and down here, before I came along… before you remembered," she took a deep breath, almost scared by the words she was about to say. "how long had you been here before you forgot why you were here?"

Gene stared at her, her haunted face.

"You won't forget, Bolly," he said.

"I might."

"It won't happen."

"It's not like it used to be, Gene," Alex insisted, "I'm _dead_ now. It's like Simon found out, amongst Keats's notes. They were phasing out the dead DCIs. They forget." She paused. "No offense."

"The DOAs, Bolly," Gene reminded her, "What about Shoebury? Or Batman? They both share something in common with the bloody princess of Wales. Out there, where they're from, they're both as dead as a Dodi…"

"_Gene!"_ Alex cried completely aghast.

"_I meant a dodo!"_ Gene protested, "I've been watching the bloody news all morning, the word got in me head!" he rubbed his temples, "Christ, Bolly, even _I'm_ not that sick!" He gave a long and drawn out sigh as he looked at the expression on her face. Her concern started to worry him. "You're not like me, lady B," he reminded her, "I was dead on arrival. I had no idea that me corpse was busy staring up the overcoat of a ruddy scarecrow. I didn't know the score. You came here knowing Mister Layton had been using yer bonce for target practice."

"But I'm dead now."

"So are Rainbow One and Rainbow Two," Gene reminded her, "same story. Both here before and knew this wasn't the place they'd called 'ome. "

"I was DOA too," Alex's voice was nothing but a whisper.

Gene wasn't following.

"I think you lost me somewhere in this morbid delve into the status of me best men," he frowned.

"When I came back," she looked him in the eye. "The clock, Gene. The hands move but I'm dead and buried on the other side. Simon, Robin… their watches never change. They both lived for a very short time after they came back here. What if that makes the difference?"

"You've been here heading on for two flipping _decades_, woman!" Gene insisted "yer memory's going to get a bit rusty."

Alex closed her eyes and took a deep breath as she felt a little unsettled inside. She knew that on the one hand Gene was right. She had been in his world for a long time and there was every possibility that there were some things she was always going to forget. But there were some things she should never have managed to let slip her mind

"_Molly's eyes_," she whispered.

"What now?" Gene was bewildered.

Alex bit her lip and let her eyelids fall closed.

"I can't remember them, Gene," she whispered, "I can't remember what colour they were." She looked at him anxiously as though expecting him to produce an answer, "how can I forget those? I was just there months ago, Gene. I saw those eyes again but now I can't picture them at all."

Gene swallowed as he looked at the fear on her face. The thought of forgetting was troubling her more than he knew how to comfort her. Slipping an arm around her shoulders he dropped his eyes a little.

"Alex," he began slowly, "I don't know why things are falling through the gaps in yer memory. And I don't know what colour yer daughter's eyes were. But you're not going to forget her."

"How can you know that?" Alex whispered, the terror of forgetting her daughter gnawing at her heart.

"Because," Gene began, "she's _half-Bolly._ You'll remember her every time you look in the mirror. Might not be attached to you but she's still as much a part of you as yer arm or leg." He thought fleetingly of his coma, his strange trip through dimensions to 2012, passing Molly in a hospital corridor. She was the splitting image of Alex. It stirred up some strange emotions inside of him.

Alex nodded slowly. She stared at the TV but zoned out the images of crashed cars and rivers of flowers. Her worries weren't going away but she tried to keep Gene's words on board. Molly was always going to be in her heart, that was true. Now she had to hope that she would forever stay in her mind as well.

~xXx~

Marci accepted the tissue that Jake held in her direction and sniffed as she dabbed at her eyes.

"Thank you," she whispered and gave a half snort, "God, look at me. What's wrong with me?

"It's a sad morning," Jake reminded her, his chin resting on his arms as he knelt beside the sofa, "you're not the only one, Marci, look at that." He pointed to the TV screen where a gathering of mourners outside Buckingham Palace were sobbing their eyes out.

"But I feel stupid," Marci admitted. She wiped her eyes a little more thoroughly and looked at Jake. "I mean, I didn't even _know_ her…"

"It's fine, Marci," Jake joined her on the couch and flicked from BBC1 to GMTV.

"I know it's silly," Marci said quietly, "I was just brought up respecting the royal family. My mum was a bit of a fan. A couple of times she took me when the queen was visiting some place in the hope we might see her," she swallowed and moved the tissue to a dry spot, "I remember watching her get married. Diana." She blew her nose softly and fiddled with the tissue, "I was only young. Just a little girl but I remember… she looked so beautiful."

Jake put an arm around her shoulders.

"Do you want to stay round mine today?" he asked

Marci looked at him and nodded.

"Please," she said, "I don't feel like going back to an empty flat." She shuddered at the thought.

"That's fine," Jake told her. He hated to admit it but she wasn't the only one who detested the idea of being alone as the news unfolded. "Maybe we can get something in for lunch. Its Sunday, let's do a roast?"

"A roast?" Marci looked at him incredulously, "I remember what happened the last tome you tried to peel potatoes." She pulled a face. "Did your arm ever heal by the way?"

Jake blanched.

"Mostly," he said. He sighed and shook his head. "I don't know, I just feel kind of weird. Want to do something comforting. Come on, Marci, I'll deal with the chicken, you peel the potatoes and we'll stick a tin of peas in there somewhere."

Marci had her reservations but nodded with a soft smile.

"OK," she said quietly, "that would be nice." But her expression fell so fast that Jake thought she changed her mind instantly

"Oh no, you're thinking about when we did that barbecue, aren't you?"

"No, no, I'm not," Marci promised, "It's just…" she nodded toward the screen where more crowds of mourners were gathering. "It's making me think about stuff. About…"

Jake looked at her with concern as she trailed away.

"Eddie?" he guessed.

Marci nodded.

"I can't help it," she said quietly, "it made me think of the funeral. All those people who turned out. The ones who didn't even know him but heard about him saving my life."

Jake nodded.

"He died a hero," he said.

Marci wiped at her eyes again and blew her nose gently. She tried desperately to pull herself together. She didn't want to show weakness. She tried to block Eddie from her mind but the more she thought about things the more she realised she wasn't the only one who would be thinking of their own grief that morning.

"Do you think this is…" she paused, "reminding other people of their own grief too?"

Jake wasn't sure what she meant.

"I guess," he said. He had only really lost one person in his life, his mother, and he was fairly young at the time. He had little memory of her _or_ his grief.

"I was thinking about Shaz," Marci told him.

That made more sense.

_"Oh,"_ Jake nodded. He knew that Shaz had helped Marci a great deal to come to terms with her loss by sharing her own experience. While Shaz's loss was not as fresh in the mind as Marci's he knew that she still struggled with it often and suddenly he began to sorry for her, too.

"Maybe you should call her," he said

"Would you mind?" Marci looked at him thankfully.

"Course not." Jake rubbed her back momentarily and got to his feet to find the telephone. He nipped out of the room for a second and returned with it in his hand. "Here."

"Thank you" Marci smiled a little sadly as Jake pulled his jacket back on.

"You call her and I'll go to Sainsbury's," he told her, "get a chicken."

"You're determined to do this, aren't you? Marci gave a little laugh despite her sadness.

"I just thought it would be nice!" Jake protested.

Marci gave him a sly smile.

"So this sudden interest in cooking wouldn't have anything to do with trying to impress a certain police chief inspector whose culinary prowess matches his dog training ability?"

Jake pulled a face, determined not to let his cheeks turn pink.

"You call Shaz and I'll get out of here," he said, "before we end up having roast Marci for lunch."

Marci smiled cheekily.

"You wouldn't even know what temperature to cook me on," she said which for some reason genuinely annoyed Jake. He slipped on his shoes and left the flat, muttering to himself about what gas mark a human being needed to be cooked on.

Marci watched him leave, then punched a familiar number into the phone. She felt comforted as she heard Shaz's voice on the line a moment later. The strangeness of the day was bringing her own grief back to haunt her but she knew with Jake and Shaz she wouldn't let herself slip backwards into depression. She had the greatest of friends and felt like the luckiest girl alive.


	6. Chapter 5: Human Inside

**Chapter 5**

"Are you doing alright?"

It was the third time Simon had asked Robin in as many minutes.

"Yes, Simon, I'm fine."

"Really?"

"Yes, I'm really alright."

Simon knew he was starting to annoy Robin. He supposed that because Robin had been taking care of him since he'd come out if hospital he was trying to return the favour in some way. The morning was passing but the news was still the same. Even Simon was starting to feel down but neither felt that they could tear their eyes away from the TV even though they'd both lived through it before.

"I think we need a proper drink," he said eventually, "now that I know where you keep it."

Robin glanced at him as he got out of bed.

"Are you allowed to drink?" he asked, "what about your medication? What would your doctor say?"

"My doctor would probably say no alcohol allowed," said Simon, "but then again there was nothing in my recovery plan about the death of a royal, so…" he gave a shrug.

"That's a fair enough get out clause in my book," Robin told him. He took the remote control as Simon left the room and began idly flicking through the cable channels. It was strange how many things he remembered the first time around; the text placed over children's channels telling them to turn to a news channel for an important announcement, the suspension of transmission on QVC with melancholy music and an 'In memorandum' statement, the downbeat songs on MTV. He gave a heavy-hearted sigh as Simon returned with two bottles.

"I thought you didn't like scotch," he said, bewildered. Robin looked a little upset.

"I don't," he said quietly, taking the brandy from Simon's other hand.

Simon slowly climbed back into bed with the scotch.

"Was it Gene's?" he asked.

"No," Robin said quietly.

"Why do you have it then?" Simon asked. When Robin didn't reply Simon's worry increased. "Rob?"

Robin looked down, ignoring the sobbing royalists on the TV.

"Scotch was Kim's drink," he said quietly. He breathed in very slowly and then let his breath out in a sigh. He couldn't look at Simon, didn't want to see his expression fall. "I always keep a bottle. It reminds me of her."

Simon clutched the bottle a little tighter.

"Oh" he said quietly. He looked at Robin nervously. "Is… is it OK if I have some?"

Robin's sigh deepened.

"Well she's not going to be drinking any, is she?" he whispered.

Simon opened the bottle and poured a little into his empty mug as he tried not to think about Kim. In the last two weeks his feelings about Kim had changed dramatically as he discovered exactly what she had done. It had taken a few days after he'd awoken for the doctors to allow him to hear the truth. Until then the details of what Alex and Robin had been put through at the hands of Keats had remained secret but he'd known something wasn't right and finally they were allowed to tell him the full story.

When it came to Kim's role in proceedings Robin couldn't bring himself to say the words. He was scared of Simon flying off the handle for one thing, and for another the seriousness of Kim's current situation was grinding at his heart like a stone. Alex has sat by his bed and in quiet, tearful tones she had told him that Kim had taken a leap of faith to intervene in a situation that seemed impossible.

When Simon realised that Kim had taken her own life he felt beyond sick. And while there would always be sadness connected to the way things between himself and Robin had ende Kim had been Simons best friend and he would never have wished harm on her. Now knowing the sacrifice that she had made; for Robin, for Alex, for Simon himself… for _all_ of them… and what had happened to her as a result of that – he felt the most incredible guilt for the things that he had said and done and he regretted them terribly. It was clearer than ever from Robin's mental and emotional state how much he loved her, and from the drastic action she had taken he could see now how much she loved him too.

"Do you want me to pour that for you?" he asked Robin as he put down the bottle of scotch and nodded to the brandy instead but Robin decided to go straight for the bottle taking a long swig from the top. "Or not. Your choice.

Robin gulped down a few mouthfuls and gasped at the power of the liquid before he screwed the cap back on.

"Sorry," he said quietly.

Simon hesitated. There were things he wanted to ask but he didn't want to make Robin feel any worse than he already did, especially not on such a day. He found himself unable to hold back one question though.

"Have you tried to call her?" he asked and Robin gave a slightly bitter laugh.

"Only every single day," he said bitterly.

"What does she say? Does she answer?"

"Nope."

"Have you been round there?"

Robin nodded.

"Oh yes."

"And?"

Robin turned to Simon and for the first time Simon saw the full depths of despair in his eyes.

"It wasn't pleasant," he whispered. He swallowed as he began to admit what he'd long known deep inside. "I've lost her, Simon. I've lost her to that place. She's become _him_."

"Who?"

Robin swallowed.

"_Keats_."

Simon felt his mouth strangely go a little dry at the mention of Keats. He licked his lips nervously.

"How do you mean?" he whispered.

"That place," Robin whispered, "it's got to her. Her heart… her humanity… they've decayed," he drank again from the bottle as the words began to kill him inside. "Her whole plan was to place herself in that station to take away the energy from him. He was absorbing everything, the dark energy created by all four of us. Her idea was to split the energy between them so that she was reducing his power by half." He stared at the bottle. "But the energy was too strong for her. It's taken her over." More of the alcohol flowed down his neck as he took an extra gulp for courage to admit, "She's become like him, Si. Inhuman. Cold. _Dark_." He swallowed. "I've lost her. Forever."

Simon's heart sank deep into his stomach. He picked up his scotch and sipped it. He knew with his fragile health it wouldn't take much to send his head spinning so he tried to limit what he drank. He couldn't stop thinking about Kim as he knew her, the feisty young ladette with the scruffy blonde crop and the bright burning love of life. He couldn't stand to think of her so cold, so dark.

"Are you sure it's not just a front?"

"You haven't seen her, Simon," Robin swallowed, "there's nothing behind her eyes."

"There has to be some of her left in there," Simon whispered.

"She's gone."

"She can't be."

"Believe me, Si, no one wants to believe that more than me," Robin whispered, "but she isn't Kim any more. That place… it's killed her inside."

"She's still a human underneath, Rob."

"How can you know that?"

"Because _he_ is."

Robin blinked.

"Who?" his face screwed up in disbelief, "_Keats?"_

Simon felt his cheeks flush. Had the alcohol managed to get to him already?

"I know it seems unbelievable, Rob," he said quietly "but he is. I've see it, just every now and then. The human side comes through," he took another sip of his scotch which took his breath away. "It just… doesn't stay for long."

Robin looked at him doubtfully.

"No."

"Yes," Simon nodded, "Really, Rob."

"Simon, he's a monster!" Robin protested, "have you forgotten what he's done? The people he's hurt? He beat me to a pulp. He raped Alex. He blew half the station sky high! And that's only one night in the life of Jim Keats."

"I know, I know," Simon seemed horrified with himself for even saying it, "but that's the monster, not the man."

"There _is_ no man. Not anymore."

"There is, somewhere back there, behind all the darkness and the malevolence," Simon felt his face flush a little deeper. He was starting to get hot and pulled the covers down for a moment. "It takes a lot to bring him out from behind it, Rob, I'm not denying that, but we've seen him… the human. And if there's still humanity left inside Keats," he looked Robin in the eye, "then there is still humanity left inside of Kim, too."

Robin swallowed.

"Then," he whispered, "how do I get her back?"

"I don't know, Rob," Simon shook his head.

"Well how did it happen with Keats?"

Simon swallowed. This wasn't territory he felt comfortable going into.

"There… there were a few times," he said a little dismissively.

"So tell me how they happened.

Simon hesitated. He felt himself shaking just a little and took a larger sip of his drink before he continued.

"Well," he whispered, "there was one time… we showed him his video. The one of his death." He swallowed, "I think he'd forgotten he was ever human. It showed him that he was just a man. It shocked him into letting the human side out again. B-but then he turned," he flinched as he remembered the images they'd see on the TV screen in Kim's hospital room of Robin back in the real world by Alex's bedside, announcing his intention to take his own life, the images that brought the monster back out.

"I don't think that will do any good for Kim," Robin whispered, "she knows what she is. She knows she's dead. She knows why she's here."

Simon looked down.

"Sorry, Rob."

"What about the other ties?"

Simon swallowed.

"What?"

"You said it happened more than once," Robin reminded him, "what happened the other times?"

"Uh," Simon pulled at the neck of his t-shirt as though it was choking him. He swallowed and took a deep breath. "He… he can't handle love," he said awkwardly, "sometimes he would be targeting Kim and then the part of him that acknowledged he was in love with her would override everything and he'd… he'd just turn human… for a moment…"

Robin felt his stomach flopping over inside of him.

"He genuinely was in love with her?" he asked darkly.

Simon wished that he could say no, but he'd witnessed it to many times. He couldn't lie. He nodded slowly.

"Yeah," he whispered.

Robin bit his lip.

"And," he began quietly, "I-is he still… in love with her?"

Simon gave a helpless shrug.

"I don't know, Rob," he said quietly.

Robin bit his lip as he nodded slowly. He knew that Kim had nothing but hatred for Keats bit the thought of Keats having genuine feelings for her disturbed him more deeply than anything else. He had to drink again, even though he could already feel his head sinning a little. After another gulp of brandy he turned back to Simon.

"So… the video… and Kim," he paused. "Did it happen any other time?"

Simon swallowed.

"I don't know."

"You said there were a few times."

Simon closed his eyes momentarily and knocked back the rest of his scotch. He flinched as it hit the back of his throat.

"I don't remember," he whispered but even as he spoke the most vivid images played through his mind of one strange and unforgettable night, unforgettable for many reasons. There wasn't a day that went by in which he didn't regret that one night with Keats, as lonely and desperate as he was. But there was more to it than that and he knew it. Unlike Kim or Alex there was no drugging, there was no hypnosis, there was no gas and air. The Keats who stared into his eyes and begged him to help him be human was not the same Keats that they saw day in, day out. The Keats who touched him and pressed his lips to Simon's was as human as Simon had ever seen him.

He felt himself involuntarily licking his lips as he quivered at the memory and quite suddenly he began to develop a problem in his nether regions that he wasn't expecting. _Shit!_ Where had _that_ come from Yeah, sure, it had been a while, but –

"_Fuck,"_ Simon muttered before he could stop himself.

"What?" Robin seemed shocked to hear the sudden curse and Simon scrabbled to pull the duvet over himself before Robin could see his swelling erection. He felt horrified with himself, horrified with his body for doing such a thing and horrified for whatever part of his mind was giving him a stiff one over the memory of Keats. What the fuck was _that_ about?

"Fuck," he repeated, "Fuck it's… I'm getting cold…" he swallowed and tried to pull himself together. "Hey Rob, make us a coffee, would you?"

"What?" the sudden instruction took Robin by surprise.

"I made the last one!" Simon reminded him, desperately trying to hide the lump beneath the duvet.

Thankfully Robin hadn't even noticed. He gave a deep sigh and picked up his coffee mug.

"Fine," he said, holding out his other hand towards Simon, "Give me your cup."

Simon drank the last drop of scotch from within it, handed over his mug and watched Robin slowly get out of bed and leave the room before he peered down at his problem beneath the covers and groaned in humiliation.

"_What the fuck are you doing?" _he berated his appendage, "this is a _fine_ time to get yourself worked up!"

He tried to remind himself that it had been a long time, and that he had the same drives as anyone else but he couldn't believe that his body was reacting in such a way over Keats. He tried to tell himself that he would have reacted the same for anything or anyone, that he hadn't had physical contact with anyone since that night, and even that perhaps it was the resemblance between Keats and Robin that had set him off. But somewhere deep down there was an element of doubt. He felt his heart starting to speed up as he thought about the way Keats looked at him that night but he did his best to fight it away.

No matter how many glimpses of Keats the human came out, it was the monster that would always rule the day in the end. And besides, Simon was not going to bet excited over the thought of Jim Keats.

His lower quarters however, were in disagreement with him on that one.


	7. Chapter 6: Advance Warning

**Chapter 6**

"You doing OK, babe?"

Shaz's anxious expression was like a sight for sore eyes. Marci had spent the best part of the morning watching the coverage on TV of Diana's passing and had long given up trying not to cry. She felt weak and stupid for it but she felt so incredibly sad. Between thinking of the Princess whose life had ended just as she found happiness, her two sons left without a mother, and recalling her own grief she had pretty much let go. She supposed the rest of the country would be doing much the same thing.

"I'm fine," she sniffed but Shaz seemed doubtful.

"You don't look it," she said, brushing the curls from Marci's face, "let's get you inside."

"Excuse me," the sound of Jake's voice called out to them, "there are potatoes in here just begging to be peeled!"

Shaz glanced at Marci in horror.

"Has the tragedy really got to Jake or something?" she asked.

Marci flapped her hand in the air.

"Don't mind him, he's on a cookery kick," she said.

"Oh?" Shaz frowned, then raised an eyebrow. _"Ohhh_… would this be anything to do with –"

"Uh-huh," Marci nodded, "but we don't talk about that or Jake threatens to put us in the oven."

"Oh, I see," Shaz nodded with a giggle just as Jake appeared in the hall with what seemed to be a smear of gravy over one eye.

"I could do with some help in here."

"This roast was your idea," Marci pointed out.

"I didn't know I was getting a slap-up lunch too," Shaz said, impressed.

"You're not unless one of you peels these bloody potatoes!" Jake told them.

"Aw, the stress is getting to him," Marci said in mock sympathy.

"Oh, no, babe, don't get yourself stressed," Shaz cited patronisingly, "we'll help, won't we Marci?"

"If we don't want to be sulked at all day," said Marci, but she was glad to be joking about something. Shaz had only just arrived and already she had brightened her up. They followed a stressed Jake back into the kitchen where _Everything I Do I Do It For You_ was playing on the radio. They each took a seat at the kitchen table and found a large bowl of potatoes dropped in front of them.

"Get peeling," Jake told them.

"Crikey, this must be what it's like to be in jail," Shaz commented and Marci laughed but their joke faded out as the song ended and a sombre sounding DJ came on in its place.

"_Thank you for choosing to join us on this… sad day,"_ he began_, "Diana, Princess of wales, of course, died this morning in Paris. This is the reason for this sad… rather reflective music we're playing this morning..."_

Marci sniffled as the news struck her all over again

"I wish they'd stop saying it," she whispered, "we know by now"

"Some might not," Jake reminded her, "some people are only just getting up."

"Even _we_ got up before midday and we drank a small brewery last night," Marci pointed out.

"Then take your mind off it with some peeling," Jake handed her a small knife.

Marci rolled her eyes and turned to Shaz.

"If he doesn't stop this cookery kick soon," she began, "then I might be finding an alternative use for this thing."

~xXx~

Alex couldn't believe that they had stayed in bed until almost lunchtime. Of course it wasn't the first time but normally it was for a far nicer reason. They hadn't intended to stay there for so long but once they started watching the news they found they couldn't stop. It was addictive, and even though little new information was coming through they couldn't tear their eyes away. Alex had been through it all before but it was every bit as addictive the second time around as it had been when she lived through it all that time ago.

"_The news once again,"_ the newsreader said unnecessarily, "_is that Diana, Princess of Wales was killed this morning along with her companion Dodi Fayed and the driver of their car. It is thought that the princess was being pursued by members of the Paparazzi riding motorcycles through Paris in the early hours of this morning. The car crashed into a tunnel during the chase."_

It was almost twelve when they realised how late it was, a realisation brought only when Alex felt her stomach rumbling and realised that it was almost time to eat. They'd been intending to eat out for lunch that day but didn't want to move too far from the TV now.

The telephone rang and Alex nodded towards it.

"Answer that and I'll make some sandwiches," she offered.

She caught Gene's half of the conversation as she put together a quick lunch, the radio playing through a number of sentimental songs all the while. _Just The Way You Are, You've Got A Friend, The Greatest Love_ - each one was slushier than the last and each one put in the context of the day seemed fitting. She was shocked by how much of the day she had forgotten, like Tony Blair's speech that morning. She should have at _least_ remembered it for the notable fact that it was the first time anyone in the UK had seen him without a grin plastered across his face.

Gene was hanging up the phone just as she had finished making sandwiches and joined him in the lounge with a couple of plates full of them.

"That sounded serious," she commented.

Gene took his lunch

"Fletcher," he said gruffly, "going to be all hands on deck, security-wise. Body being flown back. Funeral."

Alex nodded.

"I hadn't thought about that," she said quietly. They both sat down in front of the television and watched the same images playing out again and again. "Does he want us at the station now?" she asked, noting that even if the answer was yes she was going to finish those damn sandwiches first.

"Nah," Gene shook his head, "tomorrow things will kick off. There'll be meetings."

"Goody," Alex sighed.

Gene left the plate for a moment to find a bottle and soon poured a scotch for both of them.

"Seems rude not to lift a glass," he commented.

Alex laid down her sandwich and nodded slowly, picking up her glass instead.

"To Princess Diana," she said quietly.

"And the press who literally drove 'er round the bend," added Gene as Alex gave him a withering look.

"That's enough," she told him, "it's too soon for your jokes, Gene Hunt."

"Sorry," Gene pulled a face, "you think I should wait for this whole thing to Di a death first?" The look on Alex's face made Gene want to laugh but he managed to hold it back. Instead he took a swig of his scotch and bowed his head for a few moments. He might have taken the opportunity to let his bad taste run into overdrive but the day was unlike anything he'd experienced. "_To Diana,"_ he mumbled, "_rest in bloody peace, love."_

Alex sipped her own drink and stared at the plate on her lap, a half-finished sandwich on the top. She found herself sighing as something began to trouble her and she had to question it.

"Gene?"

"Before you say anything I'm done with the dead Di jokes.

"No, it's not that," she hesitated, biting her lips. _Damnit_, Robin's habits had spread around the station. "You weren't pleased that no one had told you about Diana's death."

"Can't help it if me station's full of cheese heads."

"No, Gene, I mean," she looked up and caught his eyes, "it's true that I'd forgotten. Completely. And Robin and Simon both had other things on their mind. But it's made me wonder." She hesitated and sipped her scotch again as she tried to work out how to ask the question on her mind, "It's not as though this is the last major news event between now and the day I died, Gene. What about when the others come along? Presuming my…" she paused, "_cheese head_ lets me remember them," she paused, "do you want to know? I mean, should I warn you? Is there any point?" it wasn't as though they had ever been able to change history, not really. A couple of tiny incidents in the lives of Sam Tyler and Robin Thomas weren't earth shattering. Alex had come to realise that some things were not meant to be altered and that fate had to take its course. This was a copy of the world from which she and the others had come and history had to follow the same path. It's just the way it had to be.

Gene stared at her, trying to think through what she'd asked.

"More things like this?" he asked.

"In a way."

"More royal family snuff days?"

Alex swallowed. She remembered the day that the queen mother died. It was sad but hardly lived up to the day they were living through right there and then. No, there were other images playing through her mind; buildings reduced to rubble, vehicles blown apart, troops heading out to war. She shook her head.

"There are many dark days ahead," she whispered, "and there's nothing that we can do to stop them. But," she swallowed, "I could warn you. If you wanted."

Gene stared into his glass as he thought about it, He tried to imagine knowing disaster was approaching and being unable to do a thing to stop it. He tried to imagine more days like the one they were sitting in the middle of right then, the strangest passing of time, the tears and the trauma. Very slowly he shook his head.

"No, Bolly."

Alex looked at him.

"No?"

Gene shook his head.

"Don't think it's good to know what's coming up tomorrow," he said, "makes us forget about today."

Alex nodded slowly.

"Ok," she whispered.

She thought carefully about his words. It was so very true. Back in the early days in his world she had thought so much about what was around the corner. These days she barely looked beyond what they were going to have for lunch or where they were going for the evening. And that suited her. It made her happy. It made her think about her life with Gene, not the life she lived before.

There was so much that she was forgetting now, and some of it burned her heart. But some of it she was glad to forget because it reminded her that this was not the world she had always called home.

The thought that she may one day forget Molly and the others who she had once held dear tore her soul apart but the thought of forgetting that there was ever a time that she wasn't with Gene made her feel warm and sent a rush of energy through her veins. She wished that she had been with him always. His world was a much better fit with her. She had so much that was good about her life – her relationship, her friendships, her work. Perhaps forgetting where she'd come from would not be as bad as she'd thought.

But as she finished her drink she brought an image of Molly to mind. Some details were missing. The colour of your eyes, the location of her mole, the way that she smiled. Her stomach churned as she realised how many gaps there were now. She opened up her eyes again and swallowed.

That was the one thing she needed to work hard to remember. _Molly_. She would have to make an effort to remember her every damn day.

But the rest of the world? That could fend for itself.

She was a part of Gene's world now. It was more than that, it was Alex's world too. And that was one thing that she had to be thankful for – she knew that she was home.


	8. Chapter 7: Bleak Forecast

_**A/N: I'm so sorry, I was supposed to post this yesterday but I got so caught up in writing that I forgot to edit and post! I will post another chapter tonight to make up for it! On the plus side I wrote 3 chapters in one day which I haven't done in god knows how long, so I'm well and truly ahead now!**_

**~xXx~**

**Chapter 7**

Fenchurch West was eerily quiet even for a Sunday. Kim knew that part of the reason for the silence was Keats's absence. When he was there he made his presence well and truly known, but there was no Keats, so no one to throw their weight about. He was still holidaying in Paris. An occasional postcard had arrived to farther wind her up. Kim was wise to that but it didn't stop her from ripping them up in a fit of fury and revulsion every time one arrived.

Aside from Keats's absence many of the staff were in the canteen or the rec room, watching footage on the news. Kim was doing her very best to avoid it. The whole affair was full of emotion and emotions were something she could well do without. She shuddered at the thought of it.

"…_a country has been in mourning… this morning… as the new broke that Dia-" _

Kim's radio sprang to life in its own and soon found itself at the end of her fist. One sharp thwack and it stopped waffling. _Good_. That was the last thing she needed to hear.

A shudder travelled down her spine and made her freeze for a moment. Where had _that_ come from? At first she thought it might have been the news that was getting to her more than she thought it would but, no, it was something else.

The silence seemed to overwhelm her. If silence had a colour it would have been black; pure, darkest black, like night-time in the countryside with nothing for miles around. The depth of the silence surrounded her, enveloped her until she couldn't bear it and tried to fill the gap with the screaming in her head.

A dreadful shudder and suddenly the feeling was understood. It was the energy again, increasing, growing, eroding her soul. It had taken her over completely from head to toe but that didn't seem to be enough any more. It wanted to make her every bit as evil as the man she had stepped in to try to control. Like a fist in the guts the dark energy lashed out and brought her to her knees. The pain she felt was emotional but it still make every inch of her body hurt too. She wanted to cry out and scream for help but there was no one to save her. Besides, no one would see what they needed to save her_ from._

She had to move, had to get out of that room. She didn't think it was possible to outrun the energy but she was going to have to try. With all her might she pulled herself upright and paced out of the room. She didn't know where she was going, she wasn't even sure why, she just needed to get on the move.

~xXx~

Simon felt slightly disturbed by Robin's normally excellent manners falling apart when he let out a quite revolting belch. Simon glanced at him in time to see him standing the empty brandy bottle beside the bed.

"Christ, how much have you drunk?" he frowned.

"Not that much," Robin mumbled. He was used to the brandy by now and it didn't have the same effect on him that it once had, but things were still spinning a little.

Simon stared at the screen as the newsreaders alluded to the fact that afternoon had arrived.

"Come on," he tapped Robin on the arm and slipped his legs out of the bed, "we've been here for hours. I think we should get up." He looked at Robin but he didn't move. "Let's have lunch."

"I'm not hungry," Robin said quietly.

Simon reached up to play with his hair and found he still barely had any_. Bugger._ What was he supposed to do in times of worry until it grew back? He thought about adopting Robin's lip biting.

"Come on," he said quietly, "I'm starting to worry now. You were doing OK earlier."

"I'm doing OK now," Robin said quietly but Simon didn't seem convinced so with a sigh Robin got out of bed and began to wrestle on a pair of trousers. "Look, see? I'm getting up."

Simon looked at him slightly warily.

"OK," he agreed. He edged to the door. "I'll just get dressed. I'll be out in the lounge. Come through when you're ready."

Robin nodded and tried to muster up a smile and a wave but neither really happened. He watched Simon leave and then turned to his wardrobe, pulling out a dark shirt. It matched his emotions.

Something strange started to happen and he couldn't quite put his finger on what it was. There was something in the air and it was more than the death of Princess Diana. There was something closer to home. He felt it like a tingle down his spine and it made him stop and shudder, then like waking from a bad dream he blinked a few times and glanced around him.

"_What the fuck?"_ he muttered. The sensation had been so strange. He shivered, this time from his half-undressed state and finished pulling on his shirt. Something didn't feel right and he couldn't explain why. All he knew was that the day was taking a darker turn and he didn't know how to stop it.

~xXx~

Faster through the corridors she walked. One foot after another. Up one stair case, down another, through rooms, past offices, it didn't matter where. She just couldn't stop. Didn't dare.

Kim finally stepped into CID. She stood in the doorway and let her eyes scan the room. There was no Keats of course, and just a couple staff lurking; DC Hanid and some male detective she didn't know. She stopped there in the doorway for a moment, her heart racing, feeling slightly out of breath, when the darkness seemed to catch up with her unexpectedly and grasp her inside of her chest.

Quite suddenly she could see imaged in front of her as plain as though they were projected onto a cinema screen. Echoes of evil played back through the atmosphere. Her eyes focused on the desk that had always remained empty; the one he'd had earmarked for her the first time she had been in Gene's world. She could see played out in front of her; Keats taking her roughly over the desk, using pills and that stare and laden air to get what he wanted. The image shook her up so terribly that she took a step back, gasping. As she moved, her line of sight moved to DI March's desk which had been previously used by another DI; one with flame-red hair, one who had garnered from Keats a string of abuse, some of which she saw now as though the images were alive.

She stumbled towards Keats's office, ignoring the anxious glances from the present detectives, and the door flew open in her presence. The office was empty - no one had stepped inside since the day that Keats had set off on his sojourn to France - but the energy crept in past her and played back to her moments that had taken place within those 4 walls; Simon thrown against the door as Keats hissed into his ear, _"You seem to be forgetting who's in charge around here, Simon. It's me. It's my name on that door out there. You surrendered any right you had to your own life when you stepped through those doors,"_ Victoria being screamed at for taking too long to gather her papers, Kim herself being lured by Keats's power once again and Robin tied and battered on the floor where she'd found him the night she arrived.

She felt sick, _terribly_ sick. Gagging and retching, she ran from the room and fled to the corridor, desperate to escape the evilness that rapidly chased her along. It wished to sink its claws deep into her, to turn her as dangerous and dark as Keats himself. She was already halfway there.

As she reached a stairwell another barrage of images came to her; Keats assaulting DI Stone, unleashing violence in her direction. There was nothing that Keats wouldn't do. She could see it played out in front of her as thigh she's stepped right into the moment to witness it in all its terrible glory.

She spun around quickly. Keats might not have been on the premises but he was everywhere, in ghosts and whispers. His malevolence was such that he'd left himself behind in every corner of the place. Keats had been wrong when he had assumed that being away from Kim would help him to grow stronger and that the energy would still find him, without him on the premises every drop of darkness was chasing her, seeking her out, determined to turn every speck of warmth in her soul to ice.

Like a cloak it enveloped her, wrapped her in its deadly cloth from head to toe. She closed her eyes as she felt it seeping through her pores, she inhaled it into her lungs and felt its icy touch spreading through her chest.

Images and sensations flashed into her mind and body as Keats's life of evil filled the air like the soundtrack to a movie, and like the build-up to the climactic scene Kim found herself running, moving as fast as she could to the place where the worst of his actions seemed to be focused. If this was a film then it was time to take her place on set.

She was going down.

~xXx~

Simon stared at Robin, feeling more anxious by the moment.

"You haven't even touched that," he said, one eye on Robin's uneaten sandwich.

"I said I wasn't hungry," Robin said quietly. He stared at the TV but although the news was as grim and sad as ever he found Diana's death was now distracting him from his sadness rather than causing it. Talking about Kim had been a mistake. All the pain and the anguish had flooded back to him and now it sat there like a boulder in his stomach. There was a strange buzz in the air, something that didn't feel right. He tried hard to ignore it, staring at the screen but I was still there, lurking just under the surface.

"_At one o'clock, here is the headline… the only headline, really, on this historic day,"_ The grim-faced newsreader continued, "_Diana princess of Wales is dead. She and her partner Dodi Fayed were killed in a car crash in Paris this morning after members of the Paparazzi were reportedly pursuing the car on motorcycles."_

"Do you want to switch this off for a while?" Simon asked quietly but Robin simply shook his head as the news showed people talking on the streets.

"_Those poor princes,"_ someone blubbed into the microphone_, "people forget she was a mother. Those two boys will be growing up without their mum."_

Simon swallowed as he watched Robin's expression darken further. Those words were not ones he wanted to hear. The reason that Diana's death had caused him so much pain the first time around came back to the fore, recalling the death of his own mother at the hands of his violent father.

"Rob," Simon said quietly. He wanted to offer him more comfort and more support but he didn't know how.

"_It's so tragic,"_ another passer-by wept on-screen, _"losing her life just as she finally found love and happiness."_

Simon kept one wary eye on Robin as he visibly gulped and seemed to turn incredibly pale. Were they still talking about princess Diana or were they referencing his own life?

"_If there is one small mercy from this terrible day,"_ the woman continued to sob, "_it's that they died together. No one can part them now. They will forever be together in the afterlife."_

That was it.

Those were the words that caused something to break deep inside of Robin.

Unable to contain his anguish any longer he rose from the couch and focused all his anger on the television set.

"Oh yeah?" he cried, "_always be together_ just because they're both dead. What a fucking joke!"

Simon got up quickly as Robin's arms flailed while he screamed.

"Rob, it's OK," he began but Robin couldn't even hear.

"Well guess what? The afterlife isn't like a honeymoon you know! There's no angels on clouds. Just a fucking police station. You think just because you're dead you get to be together?" he gave a bitter laugh, "some madman filled me full of holes. Kim plunged off a fucking _roof_. And look at us now. We were closer when one of us was still living and breathing!"

"Robin, calm down," Simon said gently, trying to lay his hands on Robin's shoulders but Robin couldn't stop.

"She came here to save me but instead she's killing me!" he cried, "after all we went through… and now… now she's… she's turned into _him_… she's cold on the inside. Her heart is _dead_, Simon! She's dead on the inside and I've lost her! I've lost her forever! I might as well be dead too!"

With his final words he let out an agonised howl as all the pain and the devastation that he'd been holding back came out in one long sound, then he descended into tears that he couldn't control. He found himself in Simon's arms, crying violently against his shoulder while Simon held him for all that he was worth, desperate to take the pain away, but his hug was doing little to soothe him.

_"It's OK, Rob, I'm here… I'm here,"_ Simon whispered soothingly but Robin couldn't stop crying for long enough to hear. The more he wept, the more worried that Simon became. He had never seen Robin this way and he didn't know how to help him. "Tell me what to do, Rob?" he begged, "what can I do? Do you want me to do something? Do you want me to call her? To find her?" he hesitated but Robin only shook his head, knowing that if Kim wouldn't see _him_ then there was no way she would see Simon, "do you want me to call Alex? Or Jake?" But again Robin shook his head against Simon's shoulder. "What can I do, Robin?" Simon begged, "do you want a drink? Do you want something to drink? More brandy?" Robin didn't say yes but he didn't shake his head either. His tears were starting to slow down but now all the pent-up emotion had come forth there was little left inside for him to give. He was exhausted and drained, almost motionless as Simon pulled away. "I'll get you some," he said, "Just stay here, Rob," he pushed gently down on Robin's shoulders to lower him into the seat, "I'll get it. I'll get it for you." He took a step toward the doorway but realised that Robin had finished the brandy earlier. "_Shit_…" he closed his eyes, "look, there's a shop around the corner… I'll go. It'll only take two minutes." He searched for his shoes. It was the first time that he'd been out since he'd left hospital but he would have done anything to make Robin feel better. "I'll take the key," he said quietly as he fetched it from the kitchen. He paused in the doorway, biting on his lip. "Rob?" he hoped that Robin would at least look at him but his eyes were fixed and unfocused on a spot just beyond the television. "Rob, I'm going to be two minutes Will… will you be OK?" Robin didn't reply. He couldn't. With anxiety building, Simon opened the front door and nervously walked outside. He didn't want to leave Robin but he didn't know what else to do. He was going down the Gene route of throwing alcohol at people's problems.

Robin swallowed as he stared at nothing. The explosion of emotion had cleared the mists out of his way a little. The terrible feelings he'd been trying to shake away made themselves known a little more strongly now as he realised that wrapped up inside of them was fear; fear for Kim, for the situation that she was in, that he had lost her, that they had all lost her forever. He knew how dark Keats's energy was and that Kim was taking that on, little by little.

He felt nauseous as he thought about Simon's words, about the times that the human side of Keats had come forth Did Keats really love Kim? that was something that turned Robin's stomach to think about. But more than that Simon's words played through his mind. Did love really bring out the human side of Keats, even for a moment? Simon had seemed pretty certain. He swallowed. That wasn't even a requited love. Imagine if it was… imagine the power of such a thing…

He felt himself standing without even knowing. He thought about Kim and her cold, dark soul trapped in Fenchurch West. Maybe there was a way to bring her back. Maybe there really was. If love was the key then he had to try. Because no one had ever loved another person the way that he loved Kim. And he was pretty damn sure that she'd felt the same way about him too.

"_I'm not losing you, Kim,"_ he whispered. He felt energy rising inside of him as suddenly it became oh so clear what he had to do. He couldn't stop himself, he couldn't think things through. He just had to get moving. He had to get to Kim.

"_Love is the key,"_ he whispered to himself. He was going to do everything he could to see if it damn well fitted.

~xXx~

The descent to the basement was like a knife twisting in Kim's guts. With every footstep she could see and hear the pain he'd caused others down in that room.

One step – _Turning on the gas and air to have his way with her_

Another step – _a gun held to Simon's head making him reveal the truth about the world._

Another one – _The 'wrong' Alex succumbing to his tainted air and water she should never have trusted to be pure_

One more step _– the worst of all his violent and terrible act against Alex as she desperately begged to be released._

Every one of those acts hurt Kim to see, inside of her head and out, but the darkness was surrounding her again and as the door opened for her she stepped through into the room where so much evil had taken place. She stood there, her eyes closed and her head spinning.

His essence was there.

He was far away but his essence was there. It was _always_ there. There would always be Keats in the basement. He would forever be present in the West. It chilled her to the bone.

~xXx~

He knew he was over the limit but he didn't feel drunk. Beside, Gene had driven under a far worse influence than that. Robin had no choice.

He clutched his car keys and flew out of the flat, rushing down the stairs as fast as his legs would move. He threw himself into his car and started the engine.

"Fuck, I hope everyone's too busy crying for Di to head out with a breathalyser," he mumbled as he pulled away. He had the darkest feeling and needed to get to Kim. He couldn't hold back a moment longer. Now Simon had given him the tools to fight for her he had to take the chance in both hands and run with it. He had to try and he needed to give it everything he had. His heart was already broken, this was his only chance to mend it and to warm hers in the process.

~xXx~

She walked amongst the darkness, one footstep after another, through the dim and dusty basement. All around her she could feel the buzzing energy, the memories, the whispers of the past, the remnants of Keats's darkest actions. They jumped at her, grasped her, slowly pulled her even deeper under their influence. They spoke to her, whispered into her ear, showed her the way. Every inch of her body tingled as the hair on her arms began to stand on end and the darkest sensation of churning malevolence grew inside her stomach. It seemed to gather mass, growing larger and larger until it spread out and gripped her like thousands tiny hands holding her down.

The transformation was completely in progress and any tiny part of Kim that remained was flying away. Her soul, her heart, her spirit; they were cold and dark as she threw back her head and accepted hell into her veins. It was her; now, she was _it_.

And then she heard him say one word.

_"Kim."_

She spun around and he was there; terrified and breathless in the doorway, his eyes fixed upon her, just begging that he was in time. Despite the darkness that was still pulling her deeper she whispered his name

_"Rob?"_

He fixed her in his stare. This was it, this was his final chance.

Kim Stringer hung in the balance.


	9. Chapter 8: Next of Kin

Chapter 8

"…_Members of the paparazzi on motorcycles were said to have been pursuing the vehicle when the crash happened. Diana leaves behind her two sons, William and Harry."_

Alex swallowed as those words struck a chord with her and she turned slowly to Gene.

"I left behind two daughters," she whispered.

As Gene turned to her he saw her expression. There was a haunted look upon her face. The words of the news reporter has prodded her with the fact that she had left her children behind when she left the real world for good. She had struggled to come to terms with her guilt for that. Now it all came flooding back.

The touch of fingers over her own showed her that Gene cared, that he was with her,

but this time it didn't feel like enough.

"And we never talk about it," she whispered, "I mean we… talk about _talking_ about it… but it's never the right time. And we tell each other we'll talk about it soon but we never do. And that's…" she swallowed and looked Gene in the eye, "that's starting to kill me… just a little bit." She hoped that Gene would say something but when he didn't she had to carry on. "It was bad enough that I left Molly… and I even _chose_ to. I chose to leave my flesh and blood to come back to you. But then, our baby…" She swallowed again as the words lodged in her throat. "She got left behind and when that happened…. A part of _me_ did too." She could feel her eyes starting to twitch with tears, the urge to stop herself from crying fighting with the desperate need to let it all out, "I never even saw her, Gene. I didn't get to see her, I didn't get to say hello let alone goodbye. I'll never know what she looked like or who she took after the most. I'll never know if she had light hair or dark hair. I'll never know anything about her. I don't even know where she is now. I carried her and kept her safe for all that time, and then they took her from me and I lost her!" she hoped desperately that Gene would pick up the thread but he looked more uncomfortable by the moment. She closed her eyes as one tear rand down each cheek. "I've tried to wait for you to bring this up, Gene," she whispered, "I waited for you to be the one… for you to be ready… but I don't think you ever will be. So what choice did I have?"

Gene looked down. He wasn't sure he could look her in the eye, partly because he felt guilty about never allowing the subject to be discussed and partly because he wasn't good at dealing with emotions and feared he was going to take the unprecedented step of letting out a tear or two if he saw her face.

"You know me, Bols," he began, unnecessarily gruffly, "I'm not in for the mushy stuff."

"That's bollocks for a start."

Alex's words took him by surprise.

"Beg your pardon?"

"You managed it with Simon," Alex said, somewhat crossly, "so you can't back out of it with me. There's a prescient for it now. Gene Hunt _does_ do girly feelings sometimes."

Gene looked at her and saw her expression was upset and somewhat cross. That wasn't what he wanted at all, but he genuinely didn't know what to say. He closed his eyes for a moment. Alex was right, he _had_ been able to do this with Simon. Maybe that was because Simon was in a coma? It was easier coming clean about the fact that he sometimes had some element of sentiment in his body when there was no chance of that person answering him back or bringing it up again. He felt himself sighing and finally he spoke.

"It's not like we've been blessed with opportunity, Bolly. You've only just started discussing the weather or the shade of paint you want in the bedroom with me again."

Alex felt ashamed as she recalled how badly she'd treated Gene in recent times, and although they'd both been at fault and behaving strangely she knew that she had been extremely unfair in ma y ways.

"I know, Guv," she said quietly, feeling him melting a little as she called him by that name, "and I'm sorry. You know that I am. We're working hard to get past it now and we're closer than ever. But I will always regret that."

Gene nodded slowly. He swallowed and grunted a non-committal response along the noise of being sorry too. He knew there was a lot for them to work through but they were getting there.

"And I recall, I believe, that we were going to talk about her the weekend after National Blair Appreciation day." He saw Alex hang her head with sadness, "but then me station was blown apart and me life with it. So that never happened."

Alex swallowed.

"No," she whispered, "it didn't."

"And," Gene carried on, "before that…" he hesitated. This wasn't his territory, no matter what Alex had said. And although years had passed and he was not the same Gene Hunt that Alex first met back in eighty one he was still about as bad at handling feelings as a moth attempting to handle mothballs without protective equipment. "Before that… it was all a bit raw. For us both, Bolly."

Alex nodded very slowly

"Yes," she whispered, "it was.."

"Couldn't think of anything to say to you," he admitted gruffly, "couldn't think of anything I wanted you to say to _me_, either. Felt like anything we said was gonna make it worse."

Alex bit her lip. She thought back to those painful, difficult days and weeks after she arrived back in Gene's world; her disappearing bump, the realisation that her baby had been left behind. That was the time for crying, not talking. And then with so much adjustment to make it had been impossible to have the conversation at the time.

"I know," she whispered, "me too."

Gene looked down at the floor and drew his breath in slowly.

"And yeah," he said, "you might be right, I _did_ do this with Simon. But he was out cold and wasn't going to answer me back. Plus he's a thirty-something year old man, not a _coochie-woochie-woo-woo."_

"That's a new one," Alex said quietly, aware Gene had never even said 'baby'.

"Alex," he drew her attention back to him with the use of her name, "when you pissed on the stick and the line turned blue it was the bloody scariest minute of me life. Forget bombs, forget bullets. Turns out I'm not scared of ending life." He swallowed, "I'm scared of _creating_ it." He finally looked her in the eye. "Wasn't exactly planned, was it?"

Alex shook her head slowly.

"No," she said quietly, "it wasn't."

"Minute you told me you thought I'd put one up you I wanted to run a mile," Gene admitted, "but I didn't. I _couldn't_. 'Cause it was you. You and me, and we're a team. We took it on together. Only thing I wouldn't have done was piss on the stick for you. I tried to take care of you. Fed you up. Got some food in yer belly when nothing wanted to stay put. Sent you to bed to save yer energy for growing the sprog."

Alex licked her lips as a salty tear fell onto them from her eye.

"You did everything right," she whispered.

"Then you vanished," he continued, trying desperately not to let his voice waver, "and I lost you both in one shot."

Alex sniffed a little.

"I thought I'd lost her too," she whispered.

"First I knew of you taking yer charge over with you was when Batman showed up," Gene told her, "You had all that time to do yer maternal bonding. I'd spent months thinking me offspring had disappeared into the ether."

Alex nodded again. She could only imagine what that had been like for Gene.

"You must have gone through hell," she whispered.

"Only knew you still had yer stowaway for a few days," Gene sniffed, trying to keep his expression straight and serious, "didn't really have time to get used to it again."

Alex's tears spilled over.

"While I was with her every day," she whispered, "felt her kicking. Growing. Talked to her. I told her all about you." She closed her eyes.

"When they said you were back but the bump vanished it felt like a bad joke," he said stiffly, "didn't know who was pulling me chain or why but I didn't like it. Then I saw for myself. Didn't know what to do or what to tell you."

Alex nodded.

"We were in different places, Gene," she whispered, "weren't we? I had to come to terms with her being gone… you hadn't even come to terms with her still being here."

"Don't take that to mean it doesn't bother me," he warned her, "or that I don't care. I do. Part of me is out there in other world. That hurts, Bols."

Alex looked at him, her eyes glistening with tears.

"I know," she whispered.

"Already had one kid growing up in that place without me," he made a rare admission that Simon was his son, "not that I knew at the time. Now I've got to let another one live her life without seeing her. I didn't carry her in me belly, the most I've got in there is a couple of lattes or a curry. I didn't feel her booting me all night and I didn't have to loosen the belt on me trousers to let her grow."

"You have Robin's cakes for that," Alex tried to joke quietly but neither of them smiled.

"But that doesn't mean I don't miss her. Don't miss what we could have had."

Alex swallowed and rubbed her eye on her sleeve.

"When they say you can't miss what you never had," she began.

"That's bollocks," Gene finished for her.

Alex nodded.

"Not the terms I was going to use, but…" she closed her eyes. "Yes. It's bollocks."

Gene nodded too.

"Didn't really plan for me boys to meet their mate," he nodded vaguely towards his nether regions, "but it happened. We put the durex in the back of our minds and the back of me drawer and it happened." He sighed and went very quiet, his eyes focused on something that wasn't quite the floor and wasn't quite the wall. It felt like an eternity passed. Alex waited patiently for him to carry on. She could tell from the expression on his face that he wasn't done talking yet, it was something she had learned to recognise only too well over the years, but even so the silence began to drive her crazy. She was about to ask whether he was alright when he finally spoke again. "You know what, Bols?"

Alex wondered what he was going to say after such a long time in silent thought.

"What, Gene?" she whispered.

"Last night," Gene continued."

He paused.

"What about it?"

"Must be losing me mind in me old age."

Alex frowned.

"Why?"

"Can't think for the life of me where I put the rest of those bloody rubber johnnies."

Alex felt a strange buzz shooting through her body as his head rose and he looked her in the eye. She licked her lips again and tried not to shiver.

"Really?" she asked quietly.

Gene nodded slowly.

"Maybe we'll just," he gave a shrug, "leave them lost."

Alex bit down in her lip. One side was threatening to twitch up into a smile while the other side was wobbling with the threat of tears.

"Oh?" she whispered.

"Bloody things," he said, "can't keep track of them. Maybe we'll just let them roam free. See what happens." He looked at her a little unsure. "Depends if you want to though."

There were not words to express the mix of emotions that attacked Alex from the inside. Torn between laughing and crying, screaming and whispering, jumping and falling she did the only thing that she could think of to bring some much needed gravity back to her and to show Gene how she felt in an action rather in words. She slid forward and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck, holding him close as she closed her eyes, dripping tears against his felt her nodding against him as he squeezed her back.

They didn't need to say anything more to that. Words weren't necessary. Like so many other things, they were back on the same page now. Maybe it would even be the start of a new chapter. That was something they would only find out with time.

Until then, rubber shares were going to plummet in value.


	10. Chapter 9: Crumbling Walls

**Chapter 9**

It was the first time that his eyes had fallen upon Kim's face in weeks. _Months_, even. He stared at her and the look in her eyes made him tremble inside. She seemed so different. As she'd lost herself on the inside so her exterior had followed suit; the dark roots beneath the overgrown crop that hung limply instead of standing up proudly, the heavy circles beneath her eyes, the drawn face as her cheekbones protruded from her half-starved body – this was not the Kim he knew.

"_Kim,"_ he breathed her name and it felt like fire in his heart. To see her, to say her name, to be within touching distance of her – it was pleasure and pain at the same moment, an overwhelming sensation that filled his body and mind. For just a moment he hesitated in the doorway, He knew that the basement had been the home of so much that was bad, so much that was evil and low. He could _feel_ it. He swallowed, suddenly extremely sober. Her eyes were fixed on him but he'd never seen them such cold a shade of blue before.

"Kim," he whispered again.

She stared right back, in silence to begin with. The shock of his arrival had just about struck her dumb. Then finally she hissed two words to him;

_"Get out."_

"Kim, no," Robin shook his head desperately and took a step towards her but she backed away.

"I said get _out!"_ she cried, "I'll call security! I'll call the guards. How did you get in anyway?"

"No one was on duty," Robin told her, "they were all watching footage of Charles flying off to Paris."

"You'll be flying out the _door_ when I get my hands on you," Kim threatened angrily, "I told you to stay away."

"I'm not listening," Robin whispered.

"I told you we're over!" Kim cried, her anger and emotion slowly climbing.

"I'm not listening to _that,_ either."

"Then you'd better fucking start –" Kim threatened as she lashed out with one wild arm, unsure whether she was trying to punch or slap him but Robin dodged before she could do either.

"Kim, this isn't you," he said urgently, "I know it isn't. I _know_ you. You'd never say these things to me."

"You have a very high opinion of yourself," Kim hissed and Robin gave a strange, strangled laugh.

"No I don't," he said, "you _know_ I don't. You know you gave me all the courage that I have. You know how weak I was until I met you."

"Then what would I want with you now?" Kim hissed, her eyes like ice, "I have all the strength and the power, Robin. You have nothing. I would eat you alive."

"Yeah, you would," Robin couldn't disagree, "you always _did_. But that's what I love about you."

The _L_ word provoked an angry response from Kim who took a swipe at Robin with her nails like an angry cat who'd been taken to the vet by its owner and wanted to show its extreme disapproval.

"_Get out_!" she cried but Robin shook his head again.

"I can't, Kim," he told her firmly, "I can't leave you. I'm here to take you away from here."

She gave one loud, angry laugh and glared at him incredulously.

"Why would I let you '_take me away'_ from here, Robin?" she spat, "I _belong_ here. This place is _me_ now. It's inside of me."

"No it isn't Kim," Robin urged her, "You're inside of it but it's not getting the better of you. You can still fight your way out."

"This is who I am now."

"No it isn't. You're Kim Stringer, you're strong, you're a fighter. You're not a part of this place. You're not like him. You're _above_ this." Robin began to feel desperate now as he saw the darkness in her eyes. "I know you, Kim. I know you better than anyone."

"_No one_ knows me!" Kim screamed at a volume that made Robin jump back, "you know nothing about _me_."

"I lived with you for eight glorious _months_, Kim!" Robin cried, "I woke up with you in bed beside me every day. You were the last thing I saw before I went to sleep at night. You were there at work, you were there at home, you were there beside me on the couch when we watched old videos, you were there beside me as we sat by Alex's hospital bed all those weeks and months. You were there beside me as _I _lay in a hospital bed," his voice began to waver, "calling me home. It was your voice that made me keep on fighting until I made it back." He stepped closer, watching her expression carefully. It was cold and stark but every now and then a flicker of something crossed her face. That flicker was enough to make him want to carry on. "I was with you every damn _day_, Kim. I was there to show you how proud I was the day you got your promotion, I was there to wake up with you on Christmas morning, I was there to feel your heart beating when neither of us knew where we stood between the worlds." Nervously he stepped a little closer. Now her face was frozen, stuck between emotions in a way that shook him deep inside. He swallowed nervously and reached forward with one shaking hand to press his fingers against her chest. Through her thin shirt he could feel the pulsing heartbeat beneath her bony chest. Christ, when had she last eaten? It pained his heart to see her in such a state. It made him feel like crying but he had to stay strong and focused. "I can still feel it beating," he whispered as she finally took a shocked step backwards.

"Don't touch me," she hissed.

"Why?" Robin whispered, swallowing hard, "because you don't want to remember?"

"Remember what?" she hissed.

"Remember what it feels like to be loved… _touched_…" he stared her in the eye, "to remember what you feel for me."

"Contempt," she spat but her face flickered between hatred for him and for herself as a tiny part of her abhorred the words she spoke.

"You don't mean that," Robin shook his head.

"Oh, I do."

"You don't, Kim. I _know_ you don't."

"_Get out."_

"Kim, I _love_ you."

"_Out!"_

"I know you love me too."

"Get out!" she screamed, "get _out!"_

"No," Robin just shook his head.

"Get," she grasped one wrist and yanked it behind his back, "_out!"_ pushing him with all her strength Robin found himself heading to the door, "Fuck off, Robin, just fuck right off!"

"Stop this," he hissed, pushing her and wresting his arm free of her grip, "stop It, Kim."

"_Out!"_

Robin grasped her by the shoulders and pushed her back against the desk where, momentarily, a look of fear crossed her face. It took Robin a moment to understand why. Then he realised; however deeply buried, Kim _still_ held the memories of all that Keats had done to her. He knew that the basement was Keats's favourite spot for a bit of adult entertainment. It didn't take much to make the connection and realise that Kim had been subjected to his control down there at some point. He hated seeing that fear on her face but it was at least human, a very human emotion and one that he took advantage of, "Kim, Kim, I'm sorry," he made sure to use her name again and again in case she'd even lost sight of that, "I didn't mean to scare you…" the fear was fading and he needed to push her, "Christ, what are you doing down _here_ of all places?"

"This is my station," she hissed, the darkness filling in the cracks, "I can do what I like."

"_Your_ station?" he repeated, "what about Keats?"

"He's not here," Kim cried, "It's my station and I want you out!"

"Why?" cried Robin, "afraid that if I'm here it'll make you remember?"

"There's nothing to remember," Kim cried but the hard shell was beginning to show the first signs of cracking,

"Come on, Kim, _remember_," Robin urged her, "after all we've been through. How much we went through to be together, despite everything. All the days we shared. We were engaged, Kim. We were getting _married_. We were going to spend our lives together." He stared right into her eyes as the tiniest flicker of life came from within, "You were _pregnant_, Kim," he felt his own heart sink into the put if his stomach and he had to fight hard to stop the tears from falling, "we were going to be a family. And then Layton shot you and took that away," he swallowed and flinched. "And then he killed me." He grasped Kim firmly by the wrists and pulled them up in front of her face, staring her in the eye. Her face contorted with emotions that caused her pain, full physical pain to deal with as they battled and fought to step forward and break out of her mind. "And then," his voice shook as he spoke, "somehow you knew you were needed… and you jumped to save us. From Him. From Keats. He was trying to kill me, he'd beaten me so badly. And you came and you saved me." He felt her hands shaking within his and her face looked stricken. He was close, he had to keep on pushing her. "He raped Alex, Kim. He raped her _right here,_ in this room." He watched her turn her head for a split second, her expression crumbling with agony as she pictured the moment, "and you knew what he was doing, somehow you knew, and you saved her too."

"_Alex,"_ she whispered, barely even realising she had spoken aloud.

"Yes," Robin whispered, "you saved her from him doing even worse. Who knows where he would have stopped. He probably would have killed us both. We're supposed to be indestructible but," he swallowed, "no doubt he would have found a way," her face was frozen, distraught crippled with a potent mix of emotions and memories that were forcing their way through her mind. He moved a little closer still, so close that she could feel his breath against her skin as he whispered, "You saved us… and in that process you lost yourself. You lost yourself to these four evil walls and the energy that Keats has been bathing in for years. But you're not going to end up like him because you're _so_ much stronger," his eyes shone as he spoke deeply to her soul, "you're so strong, Kim. You can fight this. This energy is not you. It doesn't _deserve_ you. It is not going to take you over and you are not going to become like him." He swallowed. "You are _not_ like him," he whispered, "you're Kim Stringer. And I love you."

The moment that passed in silence seemed to last for an eternity; Robin staring into Kim's eyes deeper and deeper with every second. He swore that as he stared he could see the ice melting and a little more of her soul came forth. He saw her flinch as she swallowed. Her hands were shaking so violently that it almost scared him to see. He gripped them in his own and pulled them slowly forward where he unfolded the fists she'd made and pressed one hand against his chest so that she could feel his heart beating… racing, thumping away in his chest. Her mouth hung open just slightly as though her tongue was laden with words that she couldn't or wouldn't say.

He turned her hand around and pressed it to her own chest. The feeling caused her skin to turn paler as he whispered.

"You see Kim? You still have a heart. He can't steal that from you. _No_ one can steal that from you. Not this place. Not that monster. And not the energy that's dragging you under." He swallowed. "You have a heart. And I love you for it. I love you, Kim."

"_I love you too –"_

The words escaped as though another person had uttered them. Kim looked shocked, betrayed by her own lips. She stared at him, wide eyed as she tore her hand from his grasp to slam over her mouth, horrified by her utterance. But inside of her stare Robin could see more and more of her coming forth. He could see her there, inside.

_Kim. _

Overwhelmed with a desperate need and yearning he ripped her hand from her mouth and held it firmly, pushed her backwards and pressed his lips against hers. He was terrified of feeling her hands pushing him away but they didn't. Shocked and confused by the moment Kim froze; the sensation of Robin's lips gradually filtering past the barriers she had left up around herself until she felt her heart beginning to race. Her legs shook; they felt weak and almost gave way from under her as the thaw set in. Little by little the walls crumbled and a little more of Kim came forward.

Her eyes closed as she allowed the kiss to become two-sided; nervously, hesitantly at first, barely moving her lips but a gentle sigh showed Robin she was pushing past the darkness so he quickly cupped her face in his hands and deepened the kiss. The harder he kissed her the more he could feel her kissing him back. The feeling was more than he had dared to hope for but everything he could ever have wanted and as he gasped her name against her lips he felt the layers of darkness peeling away from her, gradually leaving nothing but Kim; _his_ Kim, the Kim that he loved, the strong and compassionate woman who had taken the ultimate step to save those she loved the most.

"_Rob,"_ she whispered and for the first tine her voice lacked the coldness that he'd heard all day. He pulled back to look at her, to stare her right in the eye and he found her staring right back.

Kim.

"_Welcome back, Kim,"_ he whispered.


	11. Chapter 10: Taking Flight

_**A/N: Advanced warning, tomorrow the rating of this fic goes up to M!**_

**Chapter 10**

Jake's face looked like thunder as he emptied the rest of the food into a bin bag.

"I said I was sorry," he mumbled as he watched Marci downing her wine to take away the taste.

"What make you use coffeemate in the gravy?" she cried, literally scraping at her tongue with the napkin.

"I thought it was chicken gravy granules!" Jake told her for the fourteenth time, "I was distracted by dead royalty!"

"Aw, babe," Shaz tried to keep a straight face as she watched him tipping a bowl of hard, cold peas in the bag, "Never mind, you tried and that's what matters."

"My churning stomach is what matters!" Marci dramatically clutched her middle and kept one eye on Jake to see if he was buying it, "I will never eat again."

"_Yeah yeah,"_ Jake rolled his eyes, wise to the wind-up.

"Next time you want to impress Chief Inspector Thomas why don't you try training up a dog?" Shaz asked as innocently as she could.

"It's all very well you two picking holes in my cookery skills but I didn't see you doing any better!" he pointed out.

"Oh I don't know," Shaz spoke up cheekily, "I really liked the shape of the potatoes."

"Oh _yeah," _Marci added, "the shape and the lack of peel on the potatoes were two of my favourite things about the meal."

"We could win the turner prize for that," Shaz concluded, desperately trying not to burst into giggles as Jake's annoyance finally gave way to an embarrassed but amused smile.

"You've both made your point," he said as he emptied the last of the food into the bag and tied the top, "from now on if I'm going to cook it'll be straight out of a packet."

"You could ask Chief Inspector Thomas for cookery lessons," Shaz suggested.

"While you're at it you might want to ask for lessons in something more pleasurable too," Marci raised an eyebrow, sending Jake's cheeks an interesting shade of fuchsia.

"Like what gas mark to cook a Marci on?" he asked, sending a glare in her direction. He sighed as he scrambled for his wallet. "Right, well the roast is off I suppose. Who's for oven chips?"

"Sounds good to me," said Marci.

"I thought you'd never ask," Shaz grinned.

Jake checked his freezer and sighed.

"Not enough left," he said, "I'll nip out and pick some up." He slipped on his shoes and jacket. "Anyone else want anything before the shop closes?"

"More of this," Marci held up the almost-empty wine bottle.

"Oh yes please," said Shaz.

"And something for an upset stomach," Marci added cheekily as Jake swatted her around the head with a newspaper, "_Ow."_

"How about something for an upset best friend who will never cook again?" he asked, raising one eyebrow. He picked up the bin bag and left his flat in search of something easier for their now belated lunch as Marci poured what was left of the wine into her glass and Shaz's. She lifted the glass and gave Shaz a smile. "Thanks, Shazza."

"What for?" Shaz frowned.

"Coming over," Marci sighed deeply. "I would have spent the day on tears without you here."

Shaz smiled a little shyly.

"What are friends for?" she said, almost choking over the words. Her face felt a little flushed but she chose to ignore it. She could always blame it on the wine. As though to give her cheeks an alibi she lifted her glass and took a couple of sips. "I'm glad I could distract you for a while."

Marci nodded.

"It was tempting to sit and watch the news all day," she said quietly, "but really, it wouldn't have been good for me." she sighed as she tried to convince the last two drops of wine to fall from the bottle into her glass. "There's nothing else they can say for now. We know she's dead. We know about the paparazzi on the motorbikes. We know Prince Charles is flying over. That's it. That's all they've got. I can't watch the same news and the same shots of people," she found herself getting teary again, "of people laying flowers… over and over, all afternoon." She sniffed defiantly. She was _not_ going to cry again. "The day is sad enough, and it's making me feel sad about losing Eddie again. I don't want to go back to that stage." She stared into the red liquid and saw her distorted reflection staring back. "I want to remember the good times right now."

"Well I'll drink to that," Shaz smiled, "good to get to that stage, Marci."

Marci nodded.

"How long did it take you to get there?" she asked quietly and Shaz took another sip of wine. She gulped it down hard.

"A _long_ time," she said, sadness slipping through her smile.

"I know it was different for you though," Marci said, "she was the love of your life. I didn't know Eddie as well as I should have done." She paused, "or as well as I wanted to." She looked at Shaz who seemed quiet suddenly. _Shit_, had she _depressed_ her? She cleared her throat. "You've turned a corner now. That's the main thing."

Shaz nodded, her cheeks burning again.

"I have," she agreed.

Marci looked at her curiously.

"You seem to be blushing, Sharon Granger," she said as Shaz turned her head a little, "do I detect a little spark of interest in another person looming on the horizon?"

"Don't you think you'd be the first one to know if there was?" Shaz asked uncomfortably and Marci raised her eyebrow, a sudden smile appearing on her face.

"I _knew_ it!" she beamed, "I knew there was someone! You've been making an effort for _someone_ lately, the make-up and the perfume, and getting your hair done." She noticed Shaz involuntarily patted the bottom of the sleek bob she'd adopted just a week or so earlier. "So spill it, Granger. Who is it?"

"There's no one," Shaz squirmed as she stared into her glass.

"Don't give me that," Marci began to squeal excitedly, "I can see it all over your face! So who is it? Have you been on a date yet? Have you snuck a snog round the back, in the car park?"

"No, no, nothing like that!" Shaz cried quickly.

"But there is someone you like though?" Try as she might, Shaz couldn't block her growing smile. "Who?" when she didn't reply Marci began to fish for clues. "Boy or girl?"

"We're not five!"

"Alright then_, man or woman?"_

Shaz hesitated. He lifted her glass and hid behind it momentarily, then sipped some more wine. She bit her lip for a second before finally she admitted quietly,

"Woman."

"Alright," Marci shuffled to the edge of her seat, "now were getting somewhere." She paused "So is it someone from the club?"

Shaz bit her lip. _Technically, yes._

"Sort of."

"Someone you work with?" Marci recognised Shaz's burning cheeks and silence as confirmation and her excitement grew. "Someone in the canine division?"

"No," said Marci.

"But they're in uniform?" silence greeted her. "They're in _CID?"_ Marci grew more excited as she narrowed down the field, "someone in CID… it's not the Ma'am, is it?"

"No," Shaz frowned.

"Is it that detective constable who works with her? The part-timer?"

"No," Shaz said quietly.

Marci frowned as she racked her brains.

"And it's a woman you say?" Shaz's silence confirmed it. "Shazza, I must be losing my marbles because I can't think of anyone else in CID except DCI Drake, that constable… Lorna, and –" she froze as she watched Shaz hanging her head, suddenly deadly serious. Marci felt a tingle spread across her skin as she realised what Shaz _wasn't_ saying. "And… and _me?"_ her voice went up in a question as Shaz hung her head a little harder. Marci's eyes opened wider in disbelief as she felt her lips twitch into a smile. "You like _me?"_ her heart beat a little faster as she began to feel her own cheeks warming and a smile breaking out across her face. "Why didn't you just tell me?"

Shaz tried to pull her hair across her face to hide behind it but since she'd had her hair cut there wasn't enough left for that.

"It's not that easy just to say it," she said.

"_I_ would!"

"I'm not as confident as you are!" Shaz fanned her face a little as her bush grew hotter, "Marci, look, I'm sorry, forget I said anything –"

"You didn't say anything," Marci grinned, "I had to do all the talking." She pulled Shaz's hands away from her hair and face. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I just _told_ you why!"

"You could have told me," Marci felt a warmth in her chest as her heart beat a little harder, "you _should_ have told me," she grinned. "Shaz, look at me." Reluctantly Shaz turned her eyes in her direction and found only a smile heading back in her direction. "Do I look like I'm going to emigrate to Australia in horror?" She noticed that Shaz still didn't seem to know what to say so she reached out toward her and laid her fingers against her cheek. "You silly thing."

"You just lost Eddie," Shaz reminded her, "it didn't seem right."

Marci bit the side of her lip and tried to suppress a grin.

"Does it feel right now?" she asked gently.

Shaz swallowed, unsure of herself.

"Maybe," she said quietly.

"Do you want to see?" Marci asked her, one eyebrow rising. She had never seen Shaz look so nervous or unsure before and laid her fingers softly over hers to reassure her. As though that was a signal Shaz began to let her inhibitions slide. She closed her eyes as Marci did the same and forward they both leaned until their lips brushed together. There was a rush of heat through Marci's body as she felt the kiss. It began in her chest and spread throughout her limbs. She stroked Shaz's cheek gently as she drew her closer and kissed her a little more deeply, a little harder, a little more confidently and she could feel the brunette kissing her back when suddenly she seemed to freeze. It shocked Marci so deeply that she stopped too and pulled back a little. The expression on Shaz's face couldn't have been more different now. It was scared, haunted, _devastated_. Marci felt her stomach turn as she whispered,

"Shaz? What's the matter?"

Shaz stared at her for a moment, her eyes wide. She swallowed nervously as she tried to work out what to say. She flinched and scrambled up from the table.

"This was a mistake," she whispered, leaving Marci to stare back in horror.

"What?" she cried.

"Marci, I'm sorry," she whispered, shaking her head as she backed toward the door, "I should never have… I mean…" She fumbled for her bag on the counter and backed out of the kitchen, "I'm really sorry, Marci."

Marci was up on her feet, desperate to stop her from running away.

"Shaz, _wait!" _she called as Shaz left the flat with one last cry of 'I'm sorry' as she disappeared. Although Marci followed her out into the corridor Shaz was already belting down the stairs and was not intending to be followed. "_Shaz_!" Marci cried, "Please, come back! What did I do wrong?"

As the sound of Shaz's footsteps faded away Marci was left alone with a tightness in her chest. She ran back inside, closed her eyes and slid down to the floor. There were tears starting. _Fuck_, what the hell just _happened?_ One minute she'd just found out that Shaz liked her, the next she was running from a single kiss. Marci cursed herself over and over but couldn't work out what she had done wrong - and Shaz was in no frame of mind to tell her.

~xXx~

Out of the building, into the car park she fled. She ran to her car and unlocked the door quickly, her heart pounding and thrashing inside her. She threw herself into the driver's seat and slammed the door then folded her arms over the steering wheel and thrust her head upon them. She cried and wept as she thought about Marci's hurt expression and distressed cries but she couldn't have stayed. She just had to run.

Through her mind images and sensations played; memories of her last days with Kim, the days before a man plunged his knife into her guts. Shaz closed her eyes tightly as she gave a fitful sob. She'd really started to think that she'd started to move on. Her feelings for Marci had been growing so strong and gave her the kind of blushes she hadn't had on years and yet the moment they kissed – _bam_ – all she could think about was Kim.

_Kim._

Back again in her head, back where she had been from the moment they met.

She really liked Marci. She _more_ than liked her. She was a beautiful, funny, intelligent woman and Shaz wanted to spend every day in her company. She made her heart skip a beat and her mouth twitch into a smile. But yet when it came down to it she still wasn't Kim.

"It isn't _fair!"_ she cried against the steering wheel, "why can't I get over you?!"

But no one replied and there were no answers to give. Something was stopping Shaz from putting Kim in the past and until she could find out why she could never truly move on. Instead she'd left the woman she liked so much in tears of confusion and ruined the best chance she'd had at finding happiness again.

It was a day that she was never going to forget but for her own reasons. Royalty had died, but so had Shaz's heart.

_**~xXx~**_

_**A/N Thank you SO much to ATurkishFan for the lovely review you left me yesterday, I can thrilled that you're enjoying these stories and I really appreciate you taking the time to tell me. I hope you will stick with them!**_

_**Don't forget, tomorrow the rating goes up to M – You have been warned!**_


	12. Chapter 11: The Release

_**A/N: The rating has risen to M from this chapter**_

**Chapter 11**

She was trembling almost uncontrollably. Robin tried to soothe her but he was shaking too.

"_Kim,"_ he breathed as he stared into her eyes and for the first time saw Kim's true spirit staring back at him. The coldness, the darkness, all of that malevolence had slipped away as his words and his love helped her to fight what it seemed she could never escape from, but what was left now was a shocked, distraught and devastated Kim, far weaker than Robin was used to seeing her.

As the darkness left her and her new-found humanity repelled the energy she found herself bombarded all at once with the knowledge and the memories of what she had been through; the times that she had enjoyed inflicting pain, the way she had started to take on board the hypnotic persuasion that Keats had used so effectively on others, how her soul had turned from bright to dark. There were tears in her eyes as the force of the memories of her terrible acts came back to her.

"Fuck, Rob," she whispered, barely able to stay upright, "what have I done? God, what have I _done?"_

"Kim, you couldn't help it," he held her by the wrists to keep her upright and make sure that he could look deep into her eyes, "it's not your fault. This place… that _bastard_… and the energy… it's all too powerful. You did all you could. I know that."

Kim's heart sank.

"It wasn't good enough," she whispered

"It _was,"_ Robin promised her, "but the darkness is more than anyone can take."

She stared at him, dying inside from all the times she'd ignored his calls, from the horrid words that she said to him in the car park, from the spiteful things she had said to try to send him away.

"_I'm sorry,"_ she shook her head and cried, "I'm _so_ sorry, Robin."

"It's OK, It's OK," Robin promised her as he wrapped his arms around her, "it wasn't you. I know it wasn't you."

"It just took me _over,"_ Kim cried, so horrified by the way she'd changed that she wished she could just lay down and die on the spot, but his arms brought her feelings of warmth and love like she hadn't felt in what seemed to be an eternity. She found herself holding him too, hugging him back, her arms stretched around his warm body, clinging to him for dear life. He smelt of brandy; she liked that. It reminded of the old days. It reminded her of when they were together, happy, _alive_. _"I love you,"_ she whispered so quietly that she didn't think he could even hear her, but he did. It made him close his eyes and squeeze her all the more tightly.

As he felt her warmth against him his body started to react in a most inappropriate way as he started to stiffen down below. He silently cursed himself – yes, it has been a while… a _long_ while… eight months, in fact. _Fuck_, that was longer than he went without after _Simon_ died. But even so, this wasn't the time and was most certainly _not_ the place. He tried to shift himself awkwardly but it was too late because Kim had clearly felt it too. He could tell because he could see the tips of her ears turn ever so slightly pink and feel her gently but firmly pressing herself up against it, just to make sure she could really feel what she thought she could feel.

Mortified by the way his appendage was trying to show him up during a tender moment he began to pull away but Kim pulled him back.

"No," she said tearfully.

"Kim, I just –"

She looked him in the eye for a moment.

"Please don't pull away," she whispered. She swallowed as she slipped her hand between his legs for just a second and brushed her fingers against him, causing him to close his eyes and mutter a string of expletives under his breath. Well there was no way _that_ was going anywhere now.

Kim's heart began racing. She thought about all those lonely months after Robin's death, then the grim and terrible weeks that she'd spent in Fenchurch West. She had been so starved of affection, attention and intimacy. They were things she craved, things she needed. She looked him in the eye, knowing full well that would only make him worse and he turned away, his face flushed.

"_Jesus_, Kim," he cried, "what are you _doing_ to me?" but as he looked back and stared at her face he whispered without thinking, "_Don't stop."_

Oh _god_, it felt so wrong in the basement of all places… she knew it was wrong, they _both_ did, but without the darkness holding her emotions back being beside him again made Kim yearn for him in ways that she couldn't fight. Releasing all the emotions in one go had sent her half-crazed for him. Her pulse skyrocketed and between her legs she could feel herself dampening. Her fingers wandered forward to the bottom of Robin's shirt which she slowly lifted just high enough the reveal the designs that she had inked across his torso. Her finger traced the rough _'K'_ that he'd held her hand to place on his skin that night and she looked up, catching his eye.

"You've always been with me, Kim," he whispered, "always. No matter how far apart. You were right here. On my skin. In my heart. In my head."

Her stomach full of butterflies, words escaped from Kim's lips before she could stop them.

"_I want you in somewhere else,"_ she whispered.

_Fuck_, Robin wasn't expecting it and he couldn't think of any way to refuse a request like that. Not that he _wanted_ to. That was the thing about his relationship with Kim, it had been fiery and passionate right from the very start. It had got them into trouble more than once. Robin was sure Alex had never quite recovered from what she saw when they gave in to passion in her hospital room back in the real world.

Gripping her by the bottom of her shirt he pulled her closer and pressed his lips to hers roughly, kissing her hard, rough, desperately. He needed to taste her, needed to feel her, needed her back in every way. Quickly he fumbled a couple of buttons open, just enough to slip his hand up inside. He swept his fingers across her chest, something he once found so alien and so repulsive but that now he relished with every thump of his heartbeat inside him. He found her piercing on the left hand side and turned it slightly, enticing a groan from Kim as she closed her eyes momentarily. Their kiss halted momentarily as he pinched her lip between his teeth and she made increasingly animalistic noises.

"Fuck, Kim, I _missed_ you," he breathed, pulling her shirt apart a little higher, ripping it open quickly while somehow leaving the buttons intact. He pulled it up a little; he needed to see it, a piece of ink on her side that he'd added himself. The numbers _1995 _stared back, sending a quiver through his body. The smile that spread across his face couldn't be hidden. She was really back. He reached forward and traced the number with his finger, recalling that amazing, powerful night. He felt horrified by the prominence of her ribs beneath his fingers. "Shit, you haven't been eating," he whispered, "have you?"

He'd suspected as much. Kim used and abused food at times of stress, going one way or the other but this time she'd been so controlled by the darkness of the station that she was wasting away. She knew it too but this wasn't the time. Quickly she moved his hand away from her ribcage and diverted it lower. The intensity of the emotion and the need that she felt now that the hold of the station had been released was mind-blowing and she needed desperately to be touched, to be as close to Robin as she could possibly be. She pressed his fingers against her crotch and forcefully kissed him as he began to rub his hand back and forth. She moaned and muttered against his lips as his fingers pressed harder, then she began to grind against them while electric shocks of pleasure began to build. Her arousal was sudden and intense and Robin could feel her trousers becoming moist.

"_Fuck, you're soaking,"_ he mumbled, his cock as hard as it could get and fighting with his trousers. He gave up trying to fight it or contain their passion, he knew where this was leading. It was a bad place and a bad time but there was no fighting it. Not any more. They were both too far gone to stop. They'd learnt that lesson long ago. The chemistry between them was fiery and electric and they needed to finish what they'd started.

"_Just fuck me,"_ she pleaded and Robin wasn't going to argue. There was a part of him that wanted to take her away from the room where Keats had caused her and others so much pain but in another way it almost seemed fitting. Maybe he could finally avenge that basement for her. Perhaps he could finally take away the nightmares he knew she still had from time to time. And besides, he didn't like their chances of trying to leave the basement when they were in such a state of high arousal.

He pushed her backwards and ripped apart the fastening on her trousers then pulled down the zip and shuffled them past her hips with her underwear following a moment later. He could feel her hands around his belt while he left hot, furious kisses in a trail along her neck and her jaw. The relief as his trousers dropped to a pool around his ankles and his erection found itself set free with the shedding of his pants was incredible. He backed her against the desk and lifted her onto it, leaving her barely enough time to murmur jokingly,

"_I can't believe we're about to fuck on a desk, that's the biggest cliché of them all –"_ before he grasped her thighs, pulled her towards him and pushed his length inside of her. The desk was the perfect height for entry. He assumed – not incorrectly – that Keats had even chosen it for that purpose.

Kim's legs wrapped around him as he grasped her by the hips to hold her steady while he thrust inside of her time and again. The heat from inside her felt like it would burn him. She was so damp and so aroused, her body made it easy for him to do just as she'd commanded; to fuck her, to show her that they were really back together, that even in death she could feel so alive. He wanted to show her that his feelings for her had never changed while they were apart, not even for a moment. And after the ordeal she had been through he wanted her to feel safe with him; _loved, protected._ It was true that of the two Kim was usually the more dominant, both in everyday life and in the bedroom. But this time it was Robin's turn to take the lead. She had made the biggest sacrifice for him, now he owed her as much love and security as he could give, forever more.

He remembered every single piece of ink and metal on her body, every design, every piercing, every single modification she'd made and he loved every last one of them. He made sure to focus on them as he thrust his cock deeper inside of her, remembering the patterns that covered her body, telling her life story with their design.

It wasn't until she felt Robin inside of her that Kim truly believed that everything would be alright. It was the first time that she felt there was hope, that she would get out of that place, that she was loved and protected and that she was back with the person who owned her heart. The pleasurable sensations were building for her, despite the distraction of the rough wooden desk rubbing against her back as he fucked her deep and hard. She could tell from the look on his face that he was close to the edge almost from the start and had to keep adjusting his position so that he could keep going. _Fuck_, he'd been so desperate for this. He'd yearned for it every damn day.

She reached down between her legs and began to rub her fingers back and forth across her clit while he slammed against her, pushed deeply inside of her, stared into her eyes and sent her crazy. The faster she rubbed, the more the feelings built and she was already so aroused that the abundance of slick moisture helped her to move her fingers with ease. They glided back and forth across her most sensitive spot until she could feel herself on the edge and cried out as she fell headlong into an explosion of ecstasy. She tried to say Robin's name but it came out as some sort of unintelligible cry of overwhelming pleasure. It was the first time she had felt so good in an eternity.

Her face flushed, her chest burned, her skin reddened and her heart raced. Oh _god_, she'd forgotten how good it felt. It had been months… months and months… months of longing for this, desperate to feel Robin inside of her again. As the explosion of pleasure began to fade and die she opened her eyes again and studied his face. She needed more now. Suddenly it wasn't enough just to receive. She needed to show Robin how much she had missed him too and how much she ached to be with him again. She gripped him had between her legs and pulled him closer to the desk, almost toppling him over and he looked at her in confusion

"_It's my turn now,"_ she whispered as she pushed herself upright and let his hard cock slip out of her. He looked a little distressed; he'd been on the verge of coming with some force, and the shock of the cessation of sensation made his mouth drop open as he looked at her in horror.

"_What –"_

"I told you," she cupped his face and pulled him closer, "it's my turn," she moved around to make room for him on the desk and he hesitated just for a second, then before he could think about it too much he climbed up beside her. She laid him down with a look of determination on her face and despite her body already feeling exhausted from her orgasm she had enough energy left for Robin. She _always_ had enough energy for Robin. Making sure that he wasn't too uncomfortable on the rough, solid desk she mounted him and quickly slipped back over his twitching cock where liquid was already seeping from the tip. He groaned as she slipped onto him and adjusted her position. The sight of her face above him stirred up a torrent of emotion inside of him and as she began to move he knew he was going to last much longer.

She had longed for this. She wasn't going to hold back. She moved hard and fast at an angle she knew was hitting all the right spots. She watched his face twist and contort with every sensation that she inflicted upon his sensitive lower quarters, building the pleasure higher and higher until she could see he was right on the edge of an orgasm which, with a cry of excitement, she fucked right out of him. The sound of his moans of pleasure that gave way to one loud, lengthy cry drove her crazy and a smile of satisfaction crossed her face. Her motion slowed to a halt as she watched his chest rise and fall at speed, breathing heavily to get more oxygen into his body. There was sweat on his brow as she lay atop him, kissing his cheek, all the way across to his lips.

"_Rob,"_ she whispered.

"_I love you, Kim,"_ he breathed, his body in a state of exhaustion, "I love you _so_ much."

"So I finally get treated to the full show."

A third voice shut the blinds on their reunion and opened the door to terror. It was a voice they hadn't expected to hear, a voice they dreaded, and a voice that they knew was going to lead to distress, pain and danger. With Robin still inside her, Kim turned her head and saw him there; the shape in the doorway, with a fury on his face like she had never seen before.

"_Keats."_

Rage burned in his eyes. Caught in the act by the devil. Kim thought she had seen the darkest of days, She hadn't seen anything yet.


	13. Chapter 12: Presumed Missing

**Chapter 12**

"Where the fuck _is_ he?"

Simon pointlessly checked his watch for the thirteenth time and cursed. Why did he even wear one? He hadn't been able to tell the time for almost two years now. Shit, had it _really_ been two _years?_ Two years in that world? Two years since he died? Boy, that was not an anniversary he was looking forward to.

He sighed and shook his head, turning back to the TV and waiting for one of the news readers to tell him the time instead. He was sure at least an hour had passed by since he'd returned home to an empty flat though. At first he'd thought that Robin must have been in the bathroom but when he didn't emerge within a few minutes he checked and found it was empty. Then he checked the bedroom in case he had gone back to bed but there was no sign of him there either. He had waited for a little while before he started to get too worried just in case he had gone out for air but the time was getting on and the more Simon thought about his strange turn the more scared he became.

"Fuck, Rob where the _hell_ have you gone?" he muttered.

~xXx~

"_Prince Charles, seen there, arriving in Paris where he… will be accompanying home… the body of Diana, princess of wales who was killed… in a car crash… earlier today."_

"What twat decided to keep pausing for dramatic effect?" Gene cried, "bloody royalty died, you don't need to make that more dramatic. He glanced at Alex who had been very quiet since their earlier conversation. It wasn't unexpected. Gene knew that she would need a little time to think about all they had said, but he didn't want to leave her stewing if there was something else she wanted to talk about. Not after it had taken so long for him to feel ready to open up in the first place.

"You're thinking about her again, aren't you?" he asked and Alex glanced at him a little confused.

"Who?" she frowned, thinking he meant Princess Diana.

"The sprog."

Alex looked down, a slightly sad smile on her face.

"That's another thing we never got to do," she said quietly. She looked up at Gene who was staring at her curiously. "We never named her."

Gene's response surprised her.

"_You_ did."

"What?"

"You named her."

Alex blinked.

"Gene, I'm not sure what you're talking about."

"You had to have done," he said to her. She stared back blankly. "Come on, Lady B. I know you. You had a name all picked out the minute you knew you were on Team Pink. Probably from the minute you peed on that _thing."_

Alex hesitated, Gene's comment hanging in the air. Her eyes flickered away from him and she found herself biting down on her lip. Her expression looked almost guilty as she admitted,

"There was… _one_ name. Sort of."

Gene nodded slowly.

"You gonna let me in on it or do we have to play twenty questions? Animal, vegetable or mineral?"

Alex's smile waivered sadly.

"Kim," she said .

Gene stared at her in silence for a few minutes as he let sink in for a while.

"So _all_ of the above then." He said.

Alex ignored his remark. This wasn't the time for him to pick on Kim.

"She was the strongest person I knew," she told him, "everything that she came through… I wanted our baby to have that same strength."

Gene looked down and set his jaw firmly. This still wasn't territory that sat comfortably with him but he nodded and admitted,

"I think she did, Bols. Maybe a bit too much."

Alex closed her eyes. She knew what he meant. The baby had been strong enough to survive back in 2012. If she hadn't then they would probably have been a family by then.

"I think you're right," she whispered.

Gene fell silent for a while as he thought about the situation, their baby and the name. He might have enjoyed taking a dig at Alex every now and then for her night with Kim but the woman had taken her own life to try to protect them all from Keats. She wasn't the first to ensure their own death to get back to his world but while the others had done it for love she was the only one who did it knowing that she would be separated from the people she loved even more severely than before. Despite himself he found himself agreeing with Alex. With a nod he pushed Alex's half-empty glass towards her and topped it up. She looked at him, a little confused as he lifted his own and held it forward in a toast.

"Baby Kim," he grunted.

Alex looked at him in surprise but didn't question it. In a day Gene had gone from avoiding the subject completely to willingly talking about her. For that, she felt extremely glad.

"_Baby Kim,"_ she whispered as she clinked her glass against his. She hesitated for a moment before she drank, closing her eyes and letting the memories of her pregnancy wash over her. Her thoughts were interrupted by the ringing of the phone and an annoyed Gene plonked his glass back on the table.

"I s'pose this'll be the bloody BBC news desk complaining that we're talking about something that doesn't involve any members of the royal family. He snatched it up. "Yes?" he hesitated as he listened then glanced at Alex. "Joy of joys, it's the _other_ fruit of me loins."

"Simon?" frowned Alex as she could hear the distant angry mumble from Simon on the line, horrified by Gene's description of him.

"Calm your size elevens, Shoebury," Gene barked, "what's biting yet backside?" he listened again. "No. No he hasn't." he glanced at Alex. "Why?"

"What's happened?" frowned Alex.

Gene ignored her momentarily to finish his call.

"if you're that worried you know how to file a bloody mission person's report," he said, "now leave me to mourn for Princess Di in peace." He hung up and sighed.

"What's wrong?" Alex asked.

"Shoebury's got his knickers in a twist," Gene sighed, "Batman's buggered off in the Batmobile and Shoebury thinks we need to send out the cavalry."

"Why?" frowned Alex.

"No idea," Gene shrugged as he slumped back down, "maybe he's worried the paps on bikes are gonna follow him."

Alex pulled a face at Gene's joke but somehow she felt concerned. It seemed a strange call to receive and for Simon to worry about Robin for no reason seemed a little off. But right there and then wasn't the time to think about it. Robin could look after himself. For now Alex just wanted to concentrate on being with Gene on the strangest of days.

~xXx~

Jake arrived home to the sound of sniffling. He placed down the carrier bag in the hall and shuffled out of his shoes.

"Marci?" he called. The sniffling noise grew a little louder as he approached the lounge. "Marci, what are you doing watching the news on your own?" he sighed as images of Diana continued to play on the TV. He sighed and sat down beside her, putting an arm around her shoulders as her sniffing increased. "Where's Shaz? Did she have to leave?"

No sooner had he said her name than Marci's face creased up and a loud and desperate sob came from her lips. She closed her eyes and bowed her head as big tears began to fall. Jake panicked; he didn't know what he'd said wrong now. He hugged her for a few moments, unsure what he was supposed to say.

"Marci?" he asked eventually, "what happened?"

"I don't know," Marci whispered, wiping her eyes again.

"Where's Shaz?"

"I don't _know!"_

"Did you have a fight with her?" Jake frowned. He'd only been gone twenty minutes, if that.

"No, nothing like that," Marci waved her hand. "It doesn't matter."

"You're in _bits_, Marci," Jake shook his head, "it does matter. What's wrong?"

Marci looked up at him, tears streaking her cheeks. Her eyes were wide and confused.

"I don't know what happened, Jake," she cried, "we were just talking and everything was fine, and then she said she," Marci paused and flinched as the words that had given her such a radiant smile across her face just a little while earlier now felt like a cruel joke "she told me that she liked me… I mean, she _liked_ me," she waited for Jake to respond and watched him raising an eyebrow and smirking a little.

"Ahh, I _thought_ she had her eye on you," he said before he frowned with confusion again. "So what happened?"

"I don't know!" Marci cried. If she had to say that one more time she was going to go crazy. "One minute we were kissing and the next –"

"You were _kissing?!"_ Jake cried excitedly, clapping his hands together as though his favourite TV characters had just got together. An angry glare from Marci made him regret that. "Sorry," he said apologetically. He hesitated. "So… Shaz likes you," he frowned, "and since you kissed her I'll assume you like her too?"Marci nodded. "then what's the problem?"

"Find Shaz and ask her!" Marci cried, "we kissed and then she freaked out and ran away!"

"She did what?"

Marci wiped her eyes.

"She just ran" she cried, "told me it was a mistake and left!" she closed her eyes and tried to hold back more tears. "I really thought she liked me, Jake, she was all shy about it and she was really cute… and then she ran out on me and…" she hung her head and turned away. "What's wrong with me, Jake?"

"What? Nothing's wrong with you, Marci."

"Shaz seemed to think there was."

"You don't know why she acted the way she did," Jake told her soothingly.

"She hates me," Marci wiped her eyes."

"I seriously doubt that."

"I must be a crap kisser then"

"Believe me, you're not," Jake said before turning a very violent shade of red.

Marci looked alarmed.

"I thought we were never talking about that," she said quickly.

"Not talking about it," Jake put his hands up, "not saying anything more, it's firmly in the past."

"Good."

"Good."

"OK then."

Jake took a deep breath as his face began to turn it a more normal hue. He looked at her worriedly.

"Marci, I don't know why Shaz did that to you, it doesn't sound like her at all. But remember she hasn't been out with anyone since she lost her partner."

Marci hesitated. She found herself chewing on the inside of her lip.

"That's true," he said quietly.

"Maybe this was all a bit overwhelming for her," Jake suggested.

Marci stared at her hands.

"Maybe," she said quietly, "but the look on her face, Jake…" she looked back at him, her expression pained and haunted. "She looked horrified. Whatever was behind it she just ran. What if she never wants to speak to me again, Jake? What if I've lost her friendship as well?"

Before Jake had a chance to reply his phone began to ring. He closed his eyes and sighed, then told her,

"Hold that thought, I will debunk it shortly." Then he got up and answered the call. "Hello?" he paused with a confused frown. "Oh, hi Sir." He frowned at Marci who mouthed '_who?_' but he couldn't answer her so he waved his hand.

"No, no I haven't… I haven't seen or spoken to him today. Why? Why are…" his frown grew deeper, "Oh? Well, no. But everything's OK though, right?" he paused. "I'm sure he'll be right back. …of course. Of course I will." He bit his lip. "yes sir."

"What was all that about?" Marci frowned

Jake stared at the phone as though it could answer the question better than he could.

"That was DCI Shoebury," he frowned, he says Robin's…" he paused, "_gone missing."_

"Missing?"

"Yeah."

"When… exactly?"

"He thinks about an hour ago," Jake frowned, "he was a bit sketchy on that part. In fact, on most parts. He didn't say why he thought Robin was missing or why he was so worried… or much of _anything_."

Marci was a little disturbed by Jake's worried expression.

"I'm sure he's big enough to take care of himself," she tried to reassure him but didn't seem to make much of a difference.

"Yeah," Jake said distractedly. There was something about the call that he couldn't put his finger on but it scared him.

"Listen, call him back on half an hour and if there's still no sign we'll go and see if we can find him somewhere," Marci suggested, "but right now he's probably on his way back and DCI Shoebury is going to feel like an idiot for bothering us."

Jake breathed in deeply.

"Yeah," he said, "you're probably right." But he didn't sound very sure of that.

He tried to put the call to the back of his mind as he went back to listening to Marci's woes and reassuring her about her kissing technique but he couldn't forget about it. Something was going on, something he wasn't quite privy to, and that sent shivers down his spine.

~xXx~

As he hung up the phone from his final call Simon closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He'd exhausted every possibility that he could think of and no one had seen Robin. Not Alex, not Jake, not anyone at the canine unit, nor any of the other places he'd tried. The state that Robin had been in earlier wasn't something to be ignored and Simon was certain that his disappearance was connected.

Quite suddenly a horrid, dark feeling settled upon his shoulders out of nowhere. He couldn't explain it but it felt like doom itself. He shuddered and flinched. This wasn't right, _Something_ wasn't right. But with no idea what was happening he didn't know how to help.

He would have to sit tight for now and hope that Robin walked through the door safe and sound.

Because the thought of something happening to him just after they'd found their feet in friendship killed Simon inside.


	14. Chapter 13: Full Control

**Chapter 13**

Keats stood in the doorway like an enigma; his coat flowing around his body like a cape and the light behind him setting his image in silhouette. He seemed twice as tall as usual somehow. He held himself higher, his dark soul casting a shadow over the love and the salvation that Robin had brought to Kim.

Instinctively the two lovers reached to cling to one another as they scrambled upright, caught in the worst possible way by the one man they would have done anything to never see again. The fear between them was palpable and the atmosphere laden with darkness. Where once that darkness had found Kim as its victim it now sought the man who stood there with his stare focused upon them, darkly looking into their minds.

He stepped inside the doorway and the dim lighting of the basement threw just a little his way. The moment that his face became illuminated they could see a wrath upon it that neither had ever seen before. They felt one another tremble at the mere sight of it, so full of fury and bile that they were not sure they would be allowed to survive the encounter.

He took another step toward them, and another, and another, slowly clapping his hands as he encroached upon them.

"Well," he began, every word from his mouth as bitter as bile, "that's some of the best porn I've ever seen. You'd have to pay top dollar for that in a seedy shop. Real top shelf material."

"How long were you standing there?" Kim whispered, her stomach in knots.

"Longer than I wanted to be," he shook with anger as he caught them both in his glare, "you think that's something I want to have etched on my memory? Do you? You think I wanted to witness you," he glared at Kim, "letting this weak-willed _substitute_ slam away at you?"

Robin was torn between terror and fury.

"I'm a _what?"_ he hissed but Keats silenced him with a stare that made his guts turn to ice.

"You were supposed to be in Paris," Kim hissed, suddenly feeling extremely exposed and scared. With her trousers and underwear on the floor she tried to pull her shirt over her lower quarters but wasn't able to cover much, and Robin could hardly cover anything at all. They sat there in the middle of their sticky mess, feeing ashamed and scared as Keats turned his anger up a notch.

"I think I outstayed my welcome in Paris," he said bitterly, reaching up and touching his face where they noticed for the first time that he had a nasty graze across his forehead and cheek.

"What happened to you?" Robin blurted.

Keats seemed a little awkward suddenly.

"Nothing. Came off my motorbike taking pho- _holiday snaps_," he said.

Robin frowned.

"I didn't know you had a motorbike," he said.

Keats hung his head momentarily.

"Well I don't anymore," he mumbled.

For a split second Kim and Robin exchanged a glance. The whole motorbike situation was sounding horribly familiar but before either could throw an accusation his way he managed to rid himself of any discomfort and turned up the darkness by several notches.

"So what's happened to _you_, Kimberley?" his eyes fixed upon her, "I left here a few weeks ago and you were as cold and hard as this fucking –" he stamped hard, _"floor."_ He relished the way that they both jumped at his gesture, but to his horror they only held one another a little tighter. "You see what happens when little girls try to play with something that's just too big?" he gave Robin a withering glance, "not that that applies to your nether regions, Robin."

Robin's blood boiled and he wanted for all the world to lash out but something held him back. He couldn't take any unnecessary risks. He still didn't know where this line of questioning would lead.

"You stepped into my station and thought you could take me on," he sneered at Kim, "well guess what happened, Kimberley?" he came within an inch of her and stared her in the eye. "You've lost. You lost the battle, the war," he reached out and ran a finger down her cheek. "And now you've lost yourself."

"_Get your fucking hands away from me,"_ Kim cried quite suddenly, stretching out at speed to push him away but despite stumbling back a step her action did little but rile him up further. He could feel the swell of the energy all around him, the energy that he was no longer used to receiving both from being out of the country and from having to share it with Kim for the last few months. Now that Robin had helped her to break the spell and bring out her true heart the darkness couldn't touch her and it was looking for a new recipient which it found in Keats. He took it in gladly as it seeped into every pore, filled his lungs with every breath and darkened his thoughts to the point at which he could have brought down the walls with the force of his anger. But it wasn't the walls that he wanted to devastate. It was something made of flesh and blood.

"You had your chance, Kimberley," he spat, "you had your share of this place. And now you've let it go…"

He stretched out to grasp her arm but wasn't expecting Robin's fist in his jaw.

"_You stay away from her!"_ he screamed with a fear and anger like he'd never known before.

Keats had barely managed to open his eyes again after falling to the ground before he saw the fist flying towards him for a second time. He closed his eyes and braced himself as a half-naked Robin dived on him from the desk. "If you lay one finger on her again –" he screamed but even with the strength that his enjoyment of the gym had brought to him Robin's muscles were beaten by something that he had no hope of fighting; the darkest of evil that the world had to offer.

As Keats moved his head a split second before Robin's second punch was about to make contact he invited the full darkness of the station creep into his bones and used it to give him the physical might to fight back then he grasped Robin by the shoulder and dragged him to the ground where he punched him in the neck causing him to gag and choke. While he was down Keats scrambled upright and kicked him hard in the stomach.

"Thought you would have had enough the _last_ time you came to stay," he spat.

_"Leave him alone!"_ Kim cried as she grasped Keats buy the coat and tried to pull him backwards but with fury and evil running through his veins he spun around and pushed her roughly against the wall with his palm.

"_Silly little girl,"_ he hissed, pushing his other hand against her throat, "I told you when you came into this station that you would never be able to handle it and I was right. Consider yourself fucking demoted, _Detective Inspector Stringer_." His grasp on Kim faded as Robin recovered enough to grab him and pull him away from Kim.

"She's free now," he cried, "it's over, Keats."

"On the contrary –" Keats spun around and stared at Robin with a contempt that he had never seen before. Inside his eyes there were flames, burning and flickering like the depths of hell itself. All around them the walls began to burn with the fires that the station just barely managed to conceal and a roar of terror filled the air. The rage that blew up with his discovery had doubled his power. The foundations of the world were shaking, giving way to the pure energy that the walls of normality did their level best to hide. In full command of the energy, Keats had all the evil in the world at his disposal and two victims to focus on. "I've only just started," he spat as he gripped Robin by the throat and pushed him hard against the wall.

His strength for a split-second was almost inhuman. Was it given to him by the darkness or simply a case of the extremes that the human body was capable of when it was absolutely necessary? It didn't matter either way. He followed it up with a knee in Robin's exposed groin and finally, as he howled in agony, slammed the back of his head so hard against the wall that he heard a delicious crack and watched Robin slip to the floor, unconscious and bloodied.

"_Fucking monster!"_ Kim screamed, launching herself towards him. In that moment she would have done anything to absorb that darkness once again, to take in that energy, to use it against him and strip him of half of his power but she had fought it for Robin; his love had pulled her from its grasp and saved her from it. Now she had nothing to use against him and no way to fight back as he turned his stare upon her. As much as she tried to lash out and cause him pain there were two things that halted her actions, the first was the hand that gripped her bony, weak arm and held her back; the second was the stare, the rage, the horrifying look in his eye as he fixed it upon her.

"Well _Kimberley,"_ he whispered as he pinned her struggling body to the wall and stared her right in the eye, "haven't you made quite the series of errors of judgement lately? You decide in all your wisdom to force your way into my world –"

"Gene's world," Kim hissed as best as she could.

"_My_ world," Keats grew angrier, "and think you can somehow control me… think you can somehow control what makes me who I am. Then you take far too much from me and turn into a little bitch queen –"

"Oh, look who's talking –" Kim tried to fight back with words but Keats didn't even notice, much less care.

"And then," he continued drawing ever closer to her, "you let go of everything you'd taken just because of some sappy _prick_ comes around with a sob story and steals back your heart."

Kim swallowed hard against Keats's hand.

"How long were you waiting out there?" she whispered.

"Long enough to feel angrier than I've ever felt in my fucking _life_," He hissed as the flames burned a little higher. He fixed his stare upon her and although she tried to close her eyes and turn away that _look_ had already sown the seed. She found herself hooked; desperate to look back at him, again, the little worm burrowing deep into her skull. The little whisper that played through her mind, the compulsion to look him in the eye… to let him look deep inside her soul.

He smirked.

"That's it, Kimberley," he sneered, "you take a good look at me. Listen to what I'm telling you."

"I'll never…" Kim began but her voice seemed weaker now and she trailed off.

"You know what's good for you, don't you Kimberley?" he whispered, "you know what you need to do if you want to be taken care of. You remember how well I looked after you, all those years ago."

"_No,"_ Kim whispered but her resistance and her will were fading as the darkness turned upon her to numb her mind and render her weak.

"_All those nights, Kimberley, I treated you so well. You never seem to remember that."_

"_You… you…"_

"I bought you drinks, dinner, night after night," he stared her right in the eye. Not once did he even blink. "I took care of you, Kimberley. I looked after you when there was no one else on your side. Remember Hunt? Remember the way that he treated you?"

Kim swallowed. She could feel her mind melting like she'd taken too much cold medicine. Her vision began to swim and her hands felt numb.

"He was just –"

"He treated you like _shit_, Kimberley. You came to me because you wanted to help me get rid of a man that wasn't fit to rule his roost. He bullied you. He called you every name under the sun."

Kim swallowed.

"He…" she tried to protest but as though Keats has pressed 'play' all those insults came flooding back to her. All the names Gene had once called her, the spiteful way that he'd said them. She remembered all the pain and the despair of her first months in Fenchurch east and felt her heart sinking.

"I was there for you then," he hissed into her ear then he reached up and laid his fingers against the aside of her forehead, "and I was in here." He heard her vocal chords let out a whimper. "I still am, Kimberley. Can you feel me?"

Kim's bottom lip wavered. She stayed fixed by his stare, unable to fight it, unable to fight the way that his words slowly took over her mind, her body and her soul.

_"Yes,"_ she whispered, _"I can."_

"You're just a drone now, Kimberley," he hissed, "you could have kept your will if you hadn't let _Robin_ talk you out of being my equal. "The fires around them reached their peak as the terrible energy filled his heart and his mind. A smile fell across his face as he watched her succumbing to something inhuman, an energy that should never have been allowed to reach the levels it had grown to. It was almost unrecognisable from that which he'd first stumbled into back in 1983.

And so was he.

Back then he was still human; unhappy, angry, nasty but human.

Now? Even _monster_ didn't cover it.

"_We're starting this all over again,"_ he whispered to her, "_everything he told you, everything he used to talk you around, it's fading away from your memory. You're mine now."_ he let go of her throat at last and she took several deep, desperate breaths to fill her lungs. Her legs gave way beneath her as she felt weakened by his strength and he watched her slip to the floor where she leaned back against the wall, her head spinning.

"It'll be just like old times, Kimberley," he told her with a smirk, "even better… because you will be right here with me all of the time." He watched her eyes close and her head lolling to one side. "You'll be here tomorrow, eight o clock sharp. I hope you like your new office," he marched away from her and scooped up her trousers, throwing them at her face. "Put these on," he commanded, "for now. I'm not going to be sloppy seconds."

He turned away as she began to let tears slip down her cheeks in silence, feeling all the strength disappearing from her body. There was still a part of her inside that tried desperately to come forth and to scream out, to run, to punch his damn lights out as she watched him dragging Robin's unconscious body up out of the door and heard it thumping its way up the stairs, one step at a time. But she just couldn't break out, as though someone had put her body to sleep, like a strange sort of anaesthetic.

She felt her eyes close as everything overwhelmed her while the flames began to fade away and solid walls once again took their place. Keats's domain was every bit as ethereal as Gene's station but in the absolute opposite direction and it wasn't going to let her go. His return and resumption of receiving all the energy it had to give had given him the kind of control that he'd never had before.

And the first one in the firing line was DI Kimberley Stringer, Fenchurch West CID.

_**~xXx~**_

_**A/N: It's Christmas Eve! Like many other writers I've posted a festive fluffy one-shot but it's focus is on Kim so it's up on my Fictionpress account. The link is near the top of my profile, but if you have any trouble accessing it shoot me a PM and I'll do what I can do to help :)**_

_**The 'last' chapter of this fic has ended up going on longer and longer so I've split it into 2 - next part up tomorrow or boxing day.**_

_**Thank you so much for following this fic and this series of stories – I hope you all have the most awesome Christmas – and please be on the look out for time travelling turkeys!**_


	15. Chapter 14: Investigative Minds

**A/N: I'm so sorry I didn't post this yesterday. I was intending to post this up and wish everyone a merry Christmas but I busted my knee really badly and spent the whole of Christmas day in agony. I'm still in a great deal of pain today so please please forgive any glaring mistakes, I'm not very coherent!**

**Chapter 14**

"…_There's a change to the published schedule here on BBC one tonight…"_

"Is there really?" Gene mumbled as Alex lay across his lap, glass in hand, "well call out the paramedics, I'm in such a state of shock." He ran is fingers lazily thorough Alex's hair and asked her, "any point using up the energy to get the remote flipping control?"

"Not really," Alex sighed, "that's all there is. Everywhere. All week long."

"Christ almighty, all _week?"_ Gene groaned.

"What did you expect, Guv?" Alex asked, turning her head slightly to look at him, "the funeral will be next Saturday and all we'll hear for the week is about how the Queen should raise the flag at half-mast and make a speech."

Gene scratched his head. It had been one long, depressing day.

"Go on then," he said.

"Go on what?"

"Give me the spoilers"

"What _spoilers?"_

"For the next week. The funeral. How many boxes of Kleenex am I supposed to get?"

"I thought you didn't want me to tell you about the future?" Alex reminded him, "and besides, where did you even learn about 'spoilers'?!"

"Shoebury's SFX magazine."

"What on earth were you doing reading that?!" cried Alex.

"I wasn't reading it, I was whacking Bammo over the head with it at the time!" Gene protested as Alex sat up and grinned at him.

"I think it's rather sweet," she said.

"Using violence against me team?"

"Showing an interest in science fiction," Alex smiled, "bonding with Simon."

"The only thing that will be bonding with Simon is me filing cabinet if he breathes a word of me raiding his magazine collection to anyone," Gene threatened as the telephone rang. He groaned. "And if that'd him asking if Batman's flown by again then me fist might have to join the bonding as well.

"Yes yes, very good Gene," Alex smirked, "let's cover up the fact that you've been borrowing sci-fi magazines by threatening violence to your only son."

"He's not me son, he's a shoe-shop assistant with an Arnold Rimmer complex," Gene mumbled as he lifted the receiver, "what?" he paused for a moment and rolled his eyes. "Here he is now, _Hologram of the Year."_ He frowned as Simon jabbered away. "No, sorry. No sign of him." Alex began to get to her feet as she realised how the conversation was going.

"Is Robin still missing?" she whispered. She checked the clock. It had been a good couple of hours since Simon had last called them.

Gene listened on the line again.

"Simon, calm yer flapping trap and listen, OK? He's not going to be far. Have you tried the station again? …The canine unit and CID? …well I don't know, try Buckingham Palace? …Maybe he's gone to pay his respects for the fallen lady, I don't know!" he sighed and shook his head, "Listen, give him an hour and if he's not back then go and borrow one of his four legged friends to sniff him out." He hung up and turned a withering glance to Alex. "I should think he's probably taken the Batmobile for a spin."

"Gene, I'm starting to worry myself, Alex said quietly.

"He's probably been drafted in to check for crappy flowers or something" Gene told her, "I'm sure he's big enough and ugly enough to take care of himself, Bols."

"I'm starting to get a bad feeling about this," Alex told him.

"Look, if he's not back in half an hour I will personally establish the _Robin Thomas Disappearance Bureau_ and track the bugger down, alright?" he froze and frowned as the phone rang again. "Probably Shoebury reporting another superhero gone missing," he snatched up the phone again. "Robin Thomas Disappearance Bureau?"

There was an extraordinarily lengthy pause on the line.

Then finally a voice said,

"_Oh good, It sounds like I have the right place then."_

"I –" Gene froze, "_what?"_

"Because that's who I'm calling about."

"Who is this?" Gene frowned.

"_I'm calling from Fenchurch General,"_ the voice told him, _"Mister Thomas was found unconscious and brought in half an hour ago."_

Gene's blood ran cold.

"Where?" he asked flatly.

"_I don't have all the details with me, I'm afraid,"_ the doctor told him, "_we were unable to find any next of kin so we contacted Fenchurch East and your name was offered to us."_

Gene turned pale.

"What's his condition," he asked, unable to look at Alex.

"_He's stable but he's yet to regain consciousness,"_ the doctor said.

Gene breathed in deeply.

"Right." He swallowed, "consider us on our way."

As he hung up he felt a terrible sinking sensation in his guts. He could feel Alex's eyes upon him, waiting for an explanation and wished he didn't have to impart the news to her.

"Well?" she asked worriedly.

Gene turned to her, his hands resting against her shoulders. He looked her in the eye and said grimly.

"Turns out Shoebury's one for the x-files by 'imself. Got a sixth sense.

"Oh god," Alex turned cold, "Gene, what's happened?"

Gene swallowed.

"Not sure," he said, "only that Batman's having a long lie down." He made a move to get his car keys. "No offence, Lady Di," he mumbled, "but it's time to turn you off." He pressed the standby button on TV and the screen went black. In an instant the royal tragedy was forgotten.

~xXx~

By the time Gene and Alex arrived, pacing down the corridor a speed, Simon had already found his way there. He started calling hospitals and struck gold first time.

"I'm going to speak to a doctor," Alex said quickly as Gene carried on towards a pacing Simon. He was walking around in circles looking like an expectant father but his expression was as dark as a thunderstorm. Gene walked towards him, not sure what was going on.

"Simon," he said gruffly.

Simon looked at Gene.

"Thought you said he would be OK," he said childishly.

"Sorry about that Shoebury, must have been all the stress of these dying royals that made me forget to check me crystal ball!" snapped Gene, "calm _down_, Simon. You're gonna hurt that hole in yer head!"

Involuntarily Simon reached up to the bandage still covering a part of his skull. He sighed with frustration and worry.

"I knew something was wrong," he insisted.

"And now we know so the important thing is we find out _why_ Batman's gone for a nap."

Simon glanced at the closed room door behind him.

"They're still doing some tests," he said, "he's unconscious but some of that might be the sedation. They had to keep him under while they assessed his injuries. "

"They given you any idea what happened to him yet?" Gene asked.

"Not much," Simon said crossly, "they keep saying they need to find his next of Kin. We both know he hasn't got any."

"Technically he has," Gene reminded Simon, "but it's not worth mentioning in polite company.

"Especially not since his next of kin most likely did this," Alex re-joined them looking pale and terrified. She found Gene quickly offering a hand on the arm.

"What's the news?" he asked.

Alex looked down, her chest jumping a little as she tried to hold back a wave of emotional tears.

"He was found by a dog walker, on a pile of refuse beside a commercial dumpster," Alex said quietly, "and he was naked from the waist down."

The response couldn't have been more severe.

"What?" Simon gasped, his eyes widening and his guts turning over at the thought.

"Fucking hell," Gene wasn't one for using the F-word often but with a look of horror he couldn't think of a better one.

"Simon," she said quietly, "he was only a short distance from Fenchurch West." She watched Simon's face fall with horror. "I'm sorry."

"Is there any evidence that Keats –"

"I don't know," Alex said quietly, "but it seems like a little too much of a coincidence to ignore it."

Simon swallowed.

"Robin… he was going on about Kim," he whispered, "he was totally devastated, it's… an emotional day and… he shook his head, "Maybe he went round there…"

"Isn't our friend Beelzebub intercontinental at the moment?" Gene scowled, "thought he was supposed to be taking in the culture over in Paris."

"Like I said, I don't know if there's any evidence," Alex reiterated. She paused. "Has anyone rung Jake yet?"

"Why would they?" Simon asked. Alex hesitated, not wanting to spell out that Robin and Jake were becoming close. Simon already knew that, he'd even acknowledged it but it was a little too cruel to force the point.

"Someone should tell him," she said simply.

"Someone needs to try to get _Stringer's _head out her bloody arse to make her listen and all," Gene mumbled.

Alex felt a little funny inside at the thought of hearing Kim's voice but knew that there was no chance of her answering a call. She hadn't so far. Maybe hearing about Robin would be enough to get her to come round? It was a possibility.

"I'll leave her a message," she said quickly, turning to head for a pay phone.

Gene shoved his hands in his pockets uncomfortably as Alex walked away. He glanced at Simon who looked about as scared as Gene had ever seen him.

"Batman will be alright," he grunted eventually.

"How do you know?" Simon mumbled.

"Because," Gene raised an eyebrow, "someone not a million miles away from me got through worse than this."

Simon glanced at Gene, somewhat bewildered by the fact that he seemed to have paid him something of a compliment. He appreciated that but it didn't settle his nerves.

"We still don't know how bad he is," he said quietly.

"Did he have half a building fall on him?"

"It's having _Keats_ on him I'm scared of," Simon shuddered.

They fell silent and Simon went back to pacing. Eventually Alex returned so that three of them could sit in silence instead of two. After fifteen minutes a set of anxious footsteps pounded down the corridor with a slightly slower set just behind as Jake and Marci made their way closer to them.

"Is there any news?" Jake's expression was gripped with panic

"Nothing yet," Alex told him.

"Who called you?" Simon frowned.

"DI Drake," Jake said a little breathlessly as Marci caught up.

"Is he awake now?" she asked hurriedly.

"No, not yet," Alex shook her head.

"They're dropping the level of sedation now," Simon was almost biting his fingernails with anxiety.

"What is this, the Batman Official Fan club's annual general meeting?" Gene demanded, wondering why so many people were gathered in the corridor.

For fifteen minutes they sat, they stood, they paced, they bought each other coffees. They watched doctors and nurses walking in and out of the room, waiting each time for news but nothing came. Finally a doctor emerged from the room and stepped towards them.

"What is it? What's happening?" Simon asked as he scrambled to his feet.

"Robin's awake," The doctor told them, "he's a little disorientated. He's coming round but don't ask him any difficult questions for a little while."

"That's a shame" Gene mumbled, "I had a set of trigonometry questions I was going to unleash on the bugger."

"Family only for now as well," the doctor said and everyone froze.

"But he doesn't have any," Simon said quietly.

"Simon's probably the closest thing you're going to find to family," Alex told him and Simon gave her a little, sentimental smile

"I don't know, Bolly," Gene began, "you got into a spot of carpet-cleaning with his missus, I think that makes you more closely related than Shoebury," but Alex stamped on his foot and ignored him. "_Christ almighty,"_ Gene squeaked as he hopped around and tried not to let his eyes water.

They doctor looked at the gathering a little warily.

"Two of you can go in," he said, "I don't care which two, but that's all."

"You go, Simon," Alex pushed him gently to the door as Gene put a hand on her arm.

"You an' all," he told her. He looked at her grimly. He knew that she and Robin had formed a close bond – he had helped her twice in the real world, he'd been there for her after their ordeal at the hands of Keats and they were about as close as friends could be. She gave him a genuine smile, feeling slightly guilty about stamping on his foot, and then followed Simon into the room.

They weren't sure what to expect. It certainly could have been a lot worse. For Alex, she was so used to seeing Simon surrounded by machines from his coma that seeing Robin with relatively small amounts of equipment around him was quite a relief but the blood smeared across his face and the bruises that were starting to come out made them both flinch.

"Robin?" Simon said quietly. He walked cautiously closer and sat down next to his bed. "How are you feeling?" Very slowly Robin turned his head to face Simon and blinked as though he hadn't quite understood the question. Simon took his hand and repeated it a little louder. "How are you feeling, Rob? Are you in pain? Do you need painkillers?" Robin's expression began to contort before them as he tried to work out what was going on and where he was. "What happened, Rob?" Simon squeezed his hand gently, "I came back and you weren't there, and –"

"_K-Keats."_ Robin's eyes flew open wide and all at once his memories flooded back to him. He turned his head to fully look at Simon and Simon could feel his hand tensing up.

"Keats?" he repeated anxiously, "what did he do? Do you remember?"

At once Robin leapt into panic mode. He tore his hand from Simon's grasp, turned from side to side and struggled to push himself upright.

"_Kim!"_ he cried.

"_Kim?"_ Simon frowned.

Alex felt her heart drop right into the pit of her stomach.

_"Kim?"_ she repeated in a whisper, "what about her? Is she alright?"

"_No!"_ he screamed, "Keats! He's got her!"

"Keats has got _Kim?"_ Simon repeated, "I thought he was in France."

"Oh god, _Kim!"_ Robin screamed, making a desperate attempt to get out of bed despite the injuries that made him grimace in pain.

"Rob, calm _down!"_ Simon cried.

"Robin, what's happened?" Alex whispered.

"He _caught_ us!" Robin cried, "so angry! _So_ angry! Went crazy…He's insane!"

"He's back in the country?" Alex asked.

"Caught you?" Simon frowned, "caught you doing _what,_ exactly? Where _were_ you?"

"Needed to _see_ her!" Robin cried as a doctor and a nurse rushed in, disturbed by the kerfuffle, "I needed to see Kim! I was so scared for her!"

"Alright, Mister Thomas, we need you to calm down," The nurse told him, trying to press him back down to the bed.

"She was _back_, Alex," he cried and Alex jumped a little as he addressed her alone.

"She was-?"

"She was back," Robin cried "it was _her_, she was… _Kim." _

"What?" Alex whispered."

"I talked and talked, I begged her... begged her to remember… showed her who she was…." There were streams of tears flowing down Robin's face by now, "and she listened… she came back to me, it was… she was Kim again. She was my Kim."

Hearing Robin describe her that way made Simon's heart darken but he was far more worried about the state of Robin than anything.

"Can't you do something?" he begged the doctor.

"I'm preparing a sedative Mister Thomas now," The doctor told him as Gene and Jake both rushed in, alarmed by the frantic cries coming from the room.

"_Batman's flipped his lid!"_ Gene cried.

"Robin?" Jake whispered, struck with fear for the state of the man he was growing closer to by the day.

Robin didn't even notice either of them had entered the room.

"Keats walked in," he screamed, "we were… it was like it used to be. And he caught us and he went crazy… we tried to fight… he had all this energy… all this strength… she'd broken the spell, he had all the energy for himself! The doctor added something to the line in his arm and almost immediately Robin began to feel strange and woozy. _"No!" _he cried, "fuck, no! You can't do this! I need… need to help her…" his screams dulled to whimpers.

"Robin," Simon whispered, disturbed by the past few moments.

With every ounce of strength in his body Robin fought to stay awake. He turned to Alex and pleaded, "You need to help her. _Save her._ Stop Keats."

"Has he hurt her?" Alex demanded, "what did he do to her?"

"Don't know," Robin breathed heavily, "knocked me out…" his eyes started to close. "But she was back," he whispered, "and it was _so good_…" drowsily he licked his lips, "we were… on the desk…" his voice dropped steadily, "she's amazing… love her… so much…"

As his head turned to one side and he fell into a dreamless sleep Simon grasped his hand again and stroked his hair as though to soothe him. The room was gripped with panic but, understanding less than the others about the severity of the situation, Jake hung his head and left the room where a worried Marci was waiting outside.

"How is he?" she cried, "What's going on? Why was he shouting?"

Jake hung his head and shook it but carried on walking and Marci had to break into a trot to keep up with him. "Jake? Jake, what is it?"

Finally Jake slowed a little. He turned to Marci and she could see tears in his eyes.

"Well, that's it," he whispered.

Marci stared at him anxiously.

"What is? Jake, what's happened?" she reached out to lay a hand on his shoulder as he wiped his eyes.

"It's over before it began." He swallowed to hold back his tears. "_The girlfriend._ They're back together."

"What? When did this happen?" Marci cried, her eyes wide.

"Sounds like it just happened today. Think that's how he ended up in this state, Sounds like he was fighting someone else for her… I don't know…"

"What the fuck -" Marci began as Jake started to walk away, "Jake? _Jake!"_

"Marci, I need a bit of time alone," Jake told her stiffly as he walked.

"Jake, I'm so sorry," Marci stopped walking to let him have his time alone but as she watched him disappearing down the corridor she felt an overwhelming sadness. As though it had not been a sad enough day in the first place both she and her best friend had their hearts broken too.

~xXx~

Alex felt her heart racing with fear as she stared at Simon and Gene.

"Kim," she whispered, "if Keats has got her…"

"He won't have for long," Simon said angrily, getting to his feet.

"What do you think you're doing, Shoe-boy?"

"I'm going to go and get fucking Keats!" Simon cried, "look what he's done to Robin… what if he does that to Kim too?"

"You're not up to it."

"I bloody am!"

"You were down the flipping corridor for three and a half months not long ago!"

"Well I'm not now," Simon began angrily until Gene reached out and proved his point by pushing Simon over with one finger. He landed heavily in his chair, looking shocked and mortified.

"No shame in it, Simon," Gene told him firmly, "you just need to get back on yer feet. Literally."

"Robin needs you here," Alex added before grasping Gene's arm, "come on, we need to move fast."

"Let's find yer ladyfriend," Gene mumbled as they rushed out of the room leaving a disturbed and anxious Simon behind. He turned to Robin, once again out for the count and took his hand. His anger towards Keats had risen sky high for what he had done but there was a part of him that couldn't shake the reaction he'd had that morning as he'd though about the man. Angry with himself he tried to force it out of his head and focus on what was happening.

"Come on, Robin," he said softly as he squeezed his hand, "everything will be alright. You'll be fine. Kim will be fine. And they'll get Keats. He'll soon be where he belongs. This is just another charge to add to the collection, Rob."

He bowed his head as he waited for news. He hoped and prayed that Alex and Gene would stay safe and they would find Kim in the same state but he couldn't be certain of that. Not with Keats back on British soil.


	16. Chapter 15: Blank Page

**Chapter 15**

Gene didn't think he had ever seen Alex looking as anxious or determined as she looked on the drive to Fenchurch West. She sat beside him staring straight ahead, her eyes on the road and her jaw set firm and solid. He wasn't sure what to say to her, partly because he was already feeling disturbed by the events and partly because he was starting to understand how deeply Alex's bond with Kim ran. A few jokes about rivets were not going to put her off the woman.

"We're going to find her," he said decisively.

Alex didn't reply straight away. She carried on staring out of the windscreen, lost in her mind, terrified for Kim. Eventually she said simply,

"Can't you go any faster?"

Gene very slowly turned his head a small way towards her and felt his eyebrow rising.

"You," he began, "lady B, are telling me to go faster?" He decided it must be Christmas because that was a time for miracles. Alex looked a little self-conscious for asking but she felt as wave of relief as Gene put his foot down and began to speed up.

"Just don't go near any tunnels," she said quickly and Gene's mouth dropped open.

"Who's doing the Di jokes now?!" he accused.

"I'm not doing jokes," cried Alex, "I want to get there in one piece! And not one big crushed piece."

Gene wasn't so sure about that.

"I'm rubbing off on you," he said.

"You can do what you like, just get to the bloody station!" Alex cried

Most of the rest of the journey passed in silence until they pulled into the car park and with a gasp of relief Alex caught sight of Kim walking slowly and stiffly from the building, out towards her car.

"That's _her,_ there she is," Alex cried, "She's alive…. She's OK… It _looks_ like she's OK… doesn't it, Gene?" she asked anxiously.

But Gene was staring in cold, hard shock at the vehicle Kim was approaching.

"_My beautiful Fiat!"_ he could barely utter the words

"Don't worry, she's looked after it," Alex hissed a little unnecessarily. Her seatbelt was off and she was halfway out the door before Gene even stopped the car.

"_Bolly,"_ Gene called crossly after her, "_get your head screwed on, woman! Whatever's happened to yer ladyfriend can I remind you there's a man-sized maggot on the loose around here?"_

Alex wasn't listening. She _couldn't_. All she could see was Kim and she was desperate to find out for herself whether she was truly OK. Her feet pounded on the tarmac as she ran towards her with Gene a few feet behind, and her lungs began to sting from breathing so hard.

"_Kim!"_ she cried, her voice loaded with fear and emotion, "_Kim, stop!"_

To her horror Kim carried on walking as though she hadn't heard a thing. Alex's voice rose in volume as she called her name again but Kim blanked her and carried on walking to the car. Finally Alex reached her and breathlessly laid a hand on Kim's shoulder.

"_Kim,"_ she panted, "what happened? Please tell me you're alright?" Slowly Kim turned to Alex with an empty stare. The icy gaze was the most disturbing thing that Alex could recall seeing. She swallowed and tried to pull herself together as she asked, _"Kim?"_

"What?" Kim asked flatly.

"What _happened_?" Alex panted desperately as Gene caught up to them.

"Nothing," Kim's words were quiet and devoid of feeling.

"Robin's in _hospital,"_ Alex told her urgently but there was not a flicker of emotion.

"I need to get home," Kim said quietly. Her manor was not the stony darkness that she had succumbed to when she found her way back into the world; it was blank, meek, devoid of feeling or strength. It was as far removed from Kim as Alex had ever seen.

"What's wrong with you?" Alex cried, grasping her by the shoulders, "Kim, I need to know what _happened!"_

"Your bloody eyeliner protégé is lounging around in a bloody _hospital_ ward," Gene joined in tactfully, "got that many dents in his skull he looks like something from the Saatchi collection."

"What happened with Keats?" Alex cried.

Kim could feel a throbbing pulse inside of her head where her memories should have been. But a little worm had crawled into her head and neatly covered them up.

"Nothing happened," she said quietly.

"He attacked _Robin!"_ Alex cried, "He knocked him unconscious and left him for _dead!"_

"I have to go home," Kim whispered, "it's been a long day."

"Did he touch you?" Alex demanded, looking Kim right in the eye, "did he hurt you too?"

"Goodbye, Alex," Kim said quietly as she reached toward the car door with her key.

"What's this on your neck?" Alex cried in alarm, the purplish-red mark of Keats's violence beginning to show. Kim didn't respond. All she did was unlock her car door as Alex threw Gene a horrified look.

"Stringer, Keats isn't a bloody endangered species," he said grimly, "don't protect him. I don't like the look of that. You gonna tell me how it got there?

"Kim _please!"_ Alex cried desperately, grabbing her arm. Empty eyes turned and stared, freezing her on the spot.

"It's alright, Bolly," Gene began angrily, "if yer galvanized girlfriend has gone mute the security cameras will do the talking."

But the blank look in Kim's eyes was hurting Alex too much to listen.

"What's _happened_ to you, Kim?" She whispered, her lip trembling as she stared, "Robin said you were back... he said it was _you_ again… but this isn't you. I don't know who this is but this isn't the Kim Stringer I know."

As Kim stared back for just a moment there was a flicker of something across her face; a shadow of an emotion, an instance of devastation, but all too soon it disappeared and in its place an empty stare returned.

"Then," she whispered, "maybe I'm not the Kim Stringer you know."

She pulled her car door open and got inside as fast as she could, slamming the door to them both. A devastated Alex began to pound against the window crying Kim's name over and over again but the woman either couldn't or wouldn't hear her and quickly started the engine and pulled away leaving Alex screaming after her, full of confusion and tears. She couldn't make any sense of it… any sense of _anything_.

"Kim!" she cried so loudly that her throat stung_, "Kim!"_ She ran a few paces after the car, all too aware that it would ultimately do no good, but quickly came to a stop with her hand to her head and tears beginning to fall from her eyes. She couldn't help it. There was no stopping them. In the last hour her emotions had been going round in circles; her closest friend unconscious in hospital, the horrid news of Keats being home, fear for Kim's safety and now the apparent confliction between Robin's report of Kim's warm and loving nature returning and the pale, empty shell of a woman that Alex had just confronted.

There was a colossal lump in Alex's throat that was going nowhere as she fought fruitlessly to stop herself from crying and she turned around to find Gene right behind her. She fell against his chest as she realised just how much she cared for Kim and how much of herself that the inked girl had lost to a station and a man that had become like a prison and guard to her. Whatever had happened to Kim after Robin had been knocked out, she might not have been physically hurt but the damage to her inside was enormous. Alex didn't know if it was possible to repair that.

"_He's killed her on the inside," _she cried to Gene, _"we've lost her. We've lost Kim forever."_

Gene didn't know what he could say, instead he held her tightly, trying to bring her comfort from his strong arms but when it came down to it he knew there was little he could say or do to stop Alex from feeling such devastation. He too had seen Kim with his own eyes and this wasn't the same feisty young lady who had driven him mad stealing his scotch and answering back during her first time to the world, nor the headstrong, protective woman who he credited with taking care of Alex when she was alone in the real world in a year where she no longer belonged.

"It's not over, Bolly," he promised her, rubbing her back soothingly, "first stop, camera footage. Find out what the devil-in-a-trench-coat did after his return journey. Soon he'll have more charges than bloody British Gas."

"But what about Kim?" Alex drew back and stared at him seriously. "that's not going to bring her back. At least Robin's wounds are physical. He can heal. They can treat his bruises and give him painkillers. What can we do for someone whose whole personality had been ripped in two?"

"He's going to spend a long time staring at the inside of a cell, Bols," Gene told her firmly, "whatever he's done to Stringer he'll be well away from it. And if I know anything about that girl then what's on the inside isn't gonna stay buried for long. Remember why you named the sprog after her, Alex." Alex closed her eyes and nodded very slowly. "Remember what you said about yer rivet-filled bit on the side?" he shook his head. "She's not gone forever, Bolly. And when she comes back I know who she'll need to help her."

As Gene delivered Alex protectively into the car before heading away to collect up any security footage that might give an insight into what Keats had done he couldn't shake the feeling that the tide was going to turn. Even though it seemed as though Keats's influence had suddenly grown and strengthened considerably in the last few hours Gene couldn't help but feel it was a little like someone who'd eaten too much cake. Chances were, he was about to lose half of it down the toilet. He remembered how insane Keats had been driven when the energy had been too much for him before. This time he seemed to be able to control it, but for how long?

Trying to influence someone as strong-willed as Kim was never going to be easy. What kind of a rebound effect would that have on Keats? And how close was he to simply blowing his own brains from the power he was trying to harness? Even if neither of those matters had any influence then there was the small matter of a trial just around the corner. _One month to go_. One month before Keats would stand up in court, and however much of an influence he might hold over his station the courts were another matter.

"_Yer days are numbered, Jimbo,"_ he hissed to himself as he slipped into the driver's seat and began to drive Alex away from the car park of the station that held so much darkness. Keats's reign of evil and terror was going to come to a crashing halt and Gene was going to make absolutely bloody certain of that.

And when it did they would take back their freedom, their peace and the feisty young lady they knew as Kim Stringer.

_One more month._

"Make the most of your final days, Mister Keats," Gene said out loud, "because soon you'll be enjoying yer research of the other side of the criminal justice system. And I, for one, am going to make very bloody certain that you're never going to integrate yerself back into polite society again."

He meant it too.

**The End**

**~xXx~**

_**A/N: Thank you thank you thank you for reading this story and for all the reviews and comments. The epilogue will be up tomorrow and the next day will begin the next fic in the series – with Keats's long awaited trial! Dun dun duuuuuuuuuuuuun!**_


	17. Epilogue: Closedown

**Epilogue**

_"Prince Charles, seen there, arriving in Paris where he… will be accompanying home… the body of Diana, princess of wales who was killed… in a car crash… earlier today."_

Gene loudly breathed out the remaining breath in his lungs and stopped the tape as he turned to Alex who was sitting beside him, pretending not to cry silent tears.

"Every last one of them, bloody useless," he huffed as he ejected it and returned it to the pile of tapes, "ten bloody security cameras can't all record the Princess of flipping Wales by mistake."

Alex swallowed, her face pale.

"Keats doesn't make mistakes," she whispered, "he made sure every last trace of evidence was gone long before we got to it."

Gene downed his scotch and hesitated, not sure what to say to Alex.

"Lack of footage isn't stopping Batman," he told her eventually, "first thing he told Simon when he came to again was that he was going to pack a round of sandwiches because by the time he'd finish in the dock he was going to need refreshments."

"Without evidence it will be hard to make it stick," Alex whispered.

Gene turned her head towards him and looked her in the eye.

"Bolly," he began, "something's going to stick this time. We've got enough crap to throw at the wall. He's left us a whole flipping pile of manure." He saw Alex involuntarily wrinkle up her nose. "Listen. I know I've given you a hard time abut yer venture to the land of Lesbos –"

"Would you like me to go and get your big book of lesbian euphemisms for you?" Alex scowled.

"Fact _is,"_ Gene ignored her, "for some unknown reason there's a part of me that's edging towards respecting Metal Mickey. Don't know many people tougher. Whatever that was we saw today we both know that wasn't her. And the Stringer that _I_ know isn't going to stay under the thumb for long."

"She was under his control for months the first time round," Alex said quietly.

"That was without bloody Batman waiting in the wings to convert her back to an anti-Jimbo stance" Gene pointed out, "she was a bloody loner. Now she's got more friends than holes through her body." He noticed that Alex finally gave a flicker of a smile. "We'll bring her back and we'll send him down." He held Alex's hands and looked at her seriously. "He won't have a leg to stand on." He dropped his voice. "At least he won't when I accidentally ram him with me Aston Martin."

Alex gave a gentle laugh but it was tinged with sadness. She understood what Gene was saying but in the meanwhile seeing Kim so cold was heart-breaking and she felt terrified for her safety.

"Alright," she whispered. She wished she felt as certain as Gene that they were going to get the better of Keats and bring Kim back but she just couldn't see how things were ever going to go their way.

"_And that concludes tonight's programming on this… sad day,"_ the voice on the TV began, a photograph of Diana shown on the screen, _"BBC one will be shortly handing over to BBC World News for updates throughout the night."_

The national anthem began as Gene flicked off the screen and turned to Alex.

"It's been a funny old day," he mumbled. "Horrible loss. Beautiful bloody woman."

Alex hung her head as images of Kim's pale self filled her mind.

"Make that two," she whispered.

~xXx~

Keats smiled to himself as he dusted off the name block that he'd had set aside for some time. The rank was wrong but the name was the same. He sat it on the desk and took a look around the rest of the basement; dark, dank, lonely. He adjusted the thermostat to its highest setting and walked slowly to the water jug by the door. From his pocket he pulled a tissue and carefully unfolded it where a fine powder lay within, then carefully sprinkled it into the water and used a biro to stir it around before walking slowly to the air conditioning grate. The screws were already loosened before he yanked it from the wall and fiddled with the canister within. His gloat rose by another three notches until it was practically filling the room. His grin had reached Tony Blair proportions.

He took a step back and reattached the grate then took a look around. _Perfect. Just perfect._

"I hope you'll enjoy your new office, Kimberley," he gloated and quickly closed the door to keep in the tainted air.

~xXx~

As Robin slept painfully in his hospital bed with Simon seated beside him all night; as Jake and Marci drank until late, nursing their broken hearts; as a sad Shaz paced her room trying to work out how she could have messed up so badly and as Gene and Alex held one another tightly to fall asleep feeling safe in each other's arms, Kim sat blankly at home, staring at the television set. As though her emotions had been sprayed with a strange anaesthetic she was numb inside, and almost outside too. She didn't feel. Keats had made sure of that. She was only to feel what he told her to feel, when the time came.

Yet deep down inside her a tiny fragment of Kim remained. It was that fragment that let a single tear roll from her eye at the memory of Robin's hot, burning kisses, the sensation of him deep inside of her, the look in his eye as he begged her to remember what they had between them. It was buried so deeply that it too would surely suffocate before too long.

She closed her eyes and the tears stopped before they had even started. She didn't want to feel anyway. The truth was too painful. Best just to stay numb like ice.

While the BBC news took her through the night she slept dreamlessly in front of it. Tomorrow hell would surely begin. For one night she was better off numb.

**The End**

**~xXx~**

_**A/N: My goal was to finish this fic by the end of December and I am so pleased I succeeded! Thank you so very much for reading and staying with the series as it continues. This fic was kind of different and was so interesting to write. That late august day in 1997 will be forever engrained in my memory. Turning it into a fic is something I'd wanted to do for a long time.**_

_**I really appreciate the support of the few reviewers I have, your words keep me going and inspire me to keep on writing even when I'm feeling ill or down or uninspired. Jessie, you go above and beyond with your amazing reviews! Thank you so much! Charlotte, Steph (MrsJackHarkness) your continued support is amazing, thank you! Ranty, Sillivan, ATurkishFan and anons, I appreciate every single review, and anyone I've spoken to outside of FFnet, on Tumblr and so on, massive hugs and thanks.**_

_**The next fic will start tomorrow, with Keats's long awaited trial. I hope you'll be reading on – THEY NEED YOUR SUPPORT IN COURT, DAMNIT! Don't forget the Kim Christmas fic is up on my fictionpress account, and finally I hope you all had a merry Christmas and I wish you all a Keats-free new year!**_


End file.
